


Make Daddy Proud

by charantonia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Even Slower Plot Development, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Genderfluid Lance (Voltron), Genderfluid Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Lance and Keith Break Up, Light Angst, Love Triangles, M/M, Neurosurgeon Shiro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pilot Keith, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, male pronouns for lance, photographer lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charantonia/pseuds/charantonia
Summary: After Keith dumps Lance, he decides to move on from his high school sweetheart.The only problem is, he doesn't know how to.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this idea has been bouncing around in my head for ages, and I've finally decided to write it. This is semi-based off of an edit by jhoca, which you can find the link to below! I should start off by saying Klance will NOT be the focused on ship in this fic! Shance is definitely the way I am leaning with it, though there will be some love triangle crossover between Shance and Klance later on! Second, I have a bad habit of not continuing multi-chapter fics, because I lose motivation if I don't feel people enjoy the work. So if you like it, please tell me in the form of kudos, comments, messages, etc. I'm not picky! Lastly, the tags, warnings and ratings may change as we go on, so make sure you check those before reading on. Also, everything is non-beta'd! So if there are grammar/spelling errors, that is the reason! Otherwise, please enjoy!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcjcMBvP8cw

“We need to break up.”

Lance didn’t consider himself an overly dramatic person, especially when it came to relationships. They were few and far between for him, so when he got into one, he tried not to treat things like a joke. He took his significant other- whether they were male or female -and their boundaries seriously. He may have forgotten dates from time to time, like anniversaries and the like, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. When it came down to it, Lance McClain was a wholly dedicated, wonderful boyfriend.

Or, at least he thought so.

Keith Kogane was… a weird chink in his armor. When he met him his sophomore year of high school, his first impression was; short, ugly haircut, rude. So he avoided him like the plague. Then Pidge became his friend, and when they demanded he be included, Lance had no choice but to at least be civil with the guy. He found out Keith was a boxer, which definitely didn’t get Lance to rededicate himself to gymnastics to stay in shape. Keith was also a cat person, with an aversion towards new people, who liked knives, conspiracy theories and urban legends, PC games, and My Chemical Romance. The opposite of Lance in every way, shape, and form.

Of course they started dating.

Things were good. Or, Lance thought they were. He was happy poking fun at Keith and destroying him at arcade games. They had a set date night, every Thursday, Keith graduated a year ahead of him, but they got into the same college, and their sex life? Well… lets just say Lance was pretty _vanilla_ when he started dating Keith. So when Keith had sprung those five words on him during date night, right before second semester of his sophomore year of college, he was understandably confused.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, setting down his fork. Keith looked as stone faced as ever, that look Lance used to call his brooding hipster face.

“We need to break up.” Keith had repeated. “As soon as possible.”

Lance blinked a few times, then started laughing. “Okay, really funny, you’re totally fucking with me. Nice job, you had me going for a few seconds, finish your dinner.”

Keith leaned across the table. “Look, Lance, this is hard for me, too.”

“Shut up.” He pushed. “Shut up, this isn’t happening.”

“I think you’re an amazing person, and these last four years have been great, but-”

“Oh my God, you’re actually dumping me,” His voice was incredulous. “What happened? Did I do something, is there someone else? Oh my God, you cheated on me.”

“No, no! I didn’t cheat on you, there isn’t anyone else,” Keith had said quickly, taking Lance’s now trembling hands.

Lance swallowed hard, not understanding. “Then, then what went wrong? Keith, we were going to get married! We talked about spending our lives together, having kids, two kids, a boy and a girl!”

“I know-”

“We were going to move, to move West where it would better for us! We were,” He was crying by this time, releasing one of his hands from Keith’s to wipe at his face. “We were going to get a Golden Retriever and those creepy twin cats.”

“Siamese. Lance, our lives are going in different directions. I’m going to be a pilot, I’ll be travelling all over the world on a regular basis, and I won’t be home often, and that isn’t fair to you,” He was speaking loud enough so lance could hear him over his crying. They were drawing the eyes of everyone in the restaurant, and Keith grimaced. “Lance, please just breathe and listen to me.”

“You’re dumping me!” He shouted, undignified. “W-What, do you want me to just sit here like a rock like you? You don’t even care enough about me to cry.”

“You don’t know how this is tearing me up inside-”

“Oh, bullshit! Bull _shit_ Keith, you think I don’t know you by now? You’re just upset that I’m causing a scene!” He wrenched his hands away and grabbed his jacket from off of his chair. “I wish I had never met you, Keith Kogane. You broke my fucking heart.”

“Lance, I’m still going to be here for you, you know that-”

“Whatever.” He put on his jacket and stormed out, tears still running down his face as he walked past the window. He saw Keith paying for the check before gathering up his own things. They met eyes, and Lance quickly looked away before rushing down the block. He sobbed, covering his nose and mouth with a hand as he went. He knew people were staring, he knew he looked like a wreck, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Once he got inside the apartment he shared with his best friend, he went to his room, slammed the door shut, and screamed. He was livid, he was boiling with anger, and he was so fucking sad. How would Keith do this to him? How could he throw away four years, four years together, just like that? His eyes were drawn to the wall above his desk, where pictures of him and Keith throughout the years were taped and tacked up. Moving like a zombie, he crossed to it.

The pictures dated back to high school, on their first date. They’d gone and seen some stupid horror movie, which ended with Lance clinging to Keith as they walked home, and jumping every time he heard a noise. There were photos of Lance in Keith’s lap, with his boy… _ex-_ boyfriend giving rare smiles, ones of them kissing, cuddling, on dates, with friends; everything. Lance had been adamant on taking photos of everything, he wanted to do it for a living, after all.

As he stood and stared, he tried to figure out where Keith had stopped looking at him that way, the way he did earlier on. Like Lance was the biggest dork in the world, but he still loved him. Like he was his whole world. Was it when they went to college? When Lance started going to frat parties with Hunk to make Keith jealous? When he took an interest in makeup? When he’d accidentally set fire to pasta trying to make dinner for their third anniversary?

New tears welled in his eyes. He slipped his fingers under on of the photos, and tore. Pieces of paper fell onto his desk time with his tears. So he tore again. And again. Over and over until the wall was bare and he was sobbing, sitting at his desk, the pieces of his relationship scattered around him. He felt sick. He felt angry, and sick, and tired.

There was a hesitant knock at his door. He didn’t answer, but Hunk entered anyway.

“Buddy? What’s going on?”

Lance looked up, and Hunk winced. He couldn’t blame his burly friend though, he probably looked like hot garbage. Red eyes, runny nose, fucked up nails from ripping at the walls, stress pimples probably breaking out all over his face…

“Keith dumped me,” He whispered. Hunk’s face softened and he came in, walking over and rubbing Lance’s back. “He just… dumped me. He told me th-that our lives are going in ‘different directions’.” He used sarcastic air quotes.

“Lance…” His friend sounded sincerely sorry. He hated it.

“Please don’t apologize. I don’t want pity…” He swallowed back a shuddering breath. “I want to hit Keith with a car.”

“Alright you skipped right over denial and went to anger,” Hunk said, patting his shoulder. “We aren’t going to hit Keith with a car. I know you want to, but you absolutely cannot do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s this thing, don’t know if you’ve heard of it, called jail. And if you hit Keith with a car, they will definitely put you there.”

Lance scoffed and pulled away, finally standing. “I don’t need your sarcasm.”

“Okay,” Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need?”

Lance played with his fingers as he thought. “Chocolate?”

For the first month they were back in classes, Lance spent 50% of his time, wishing Keith was dead, 30% moping, and the other 20% slacking off. That first week classes started back up, he missed three lectures. He stayed in bed with a bottle of vodka, and piles upon piles of junk food. He watched stupid romantic comedies just to scream at the TV. He found he seriously related to Elle Woods during this time. Only the love of his life wasn’t jetting off to Harvard Law to better his future. No, Keith was still in his sociology class, and sent him worried looks every time he showed up late, a flask in his sweatpants pocket, his bag full of Oreos.

He didn't want Keith’s worry. No, no, he didn’t need his _pity_. Why would he want the asshole who dumped him to pity him? He was doing just fine, thank you very much. Sure, his boss had yelled at him multiple times for misplacing items while he was stalking, or giving customers refunds on shirts they hadn’t carried since 1976, but he was okay.

Hunk didn’t think so.

“Lance? What have you eaten today?” His friend had asked on Valentine’s Day that year. Lance was camped out in his bed, with a bag of family sized Doritos and a two liter of Mountain Dew. Oh, and a heart shaped box of chocolates he’d bought for himself.

“You look nice,” He commented, looking his friend up and down. He wore a yellow button down with a dark grey suit. He was more than likely going on a date… which made Lance bitter. He took a long drink of his Mountain Dew. “Going out?”

“Yeah, with Shay. What have you eaten today?” He wasn’t letting Lance off so easy. The smaller boy groaned and gestured to his bed.

“You’re looking at it.”

Hunk’s nose wrinkled and he left, and came back with a trash bag. He took the chips from Lance, making him shout. “You’re living in a trash heap, Lance. I’ve let it go on for way too long.”

“I’m in _mourning_ , Hunk. You can’t expect me to be perfectly fantastic right now,” He spat.

“Yeah, for a week. Maybe two,” He shot back, stuffing things into the trash bag. “It’s been a month, Lance. I can’t let you sit here and throw everything away like this. I’m your best friend, and I’d die if I let that happened to you.”

“What do you mean, throw everything away?” He groaned, sitting up and pausing his movie. Hunk pulled an envelope and tossed it onto Lance’s bed. It was already opened but he didn’t mind; Hunk had probably done it.

“Professor Bernard told me to give that to you.” He told him, grimacing as he put what looked like a week old Hot Pocket into the bag. Lance narrowed his eyes and pulled out the letter, skimming over it.

“Mr. McClain, I write to inform you that if you do not attend my next lecture, you will be dropped from my class roster,” His voice began getting panicked. “And since my class is required for graduation, this would mean you would have to _retake_ my class next year to pass! Hunk?!”

“And that’s not all. Your photography teacher? She says if you don’t come to class sober, she’ll call campus security on you.”

“Oh my God,” He hadn’t even known he’d gotten that bad. He swallowed hard and bit his lip. “Hunk… what am I going to do?”

“First of all, you’re going to take a shower. You smell like death.” His friend wasn’t sugar-coating it, which was good. That was what he needed. He dropped the trash bag on the floor next to Lance’s bed. “Second, you’re going to finish cleaning your room. Deep clean; wash your sheets and clothes, get rid of all of the food residue, wipe down every surface, and use the vacuum on your mattress. Then, get your life back together, McClain. Fix your classes, fix your grades, fix everything.” As he headed for the door and Lance finally got out of bed, he spoke over his shoulder. “Oh… and you might want to look into getting a gym membership.”

Lance nodded pitifully. He went to their bathroom and flicked on the light, deciding to take a good look in the mirror. God… he really had let himself go. His normally deep tanned skin was pale, and ashen. He had bags under his eyes that would cost an obscene amount to take on a plane. Pimples littered his forehead and chin and oh God his skin was so oily, he felt like he wiped his face with a pizza. His hair was greased to his scalp, and he had to swallow down vomit when he felt it. He started a scalding shower and took off his clothes, looking over his body. He wasn’t _fat_ , he wasn’t winded by standing, his body wasn’t rolling in excess skin but, his abs were gone. He instead had a roundness to his belly that hadn’t been there before. His thighs were plush and so was his ass.

He’d let Keith destroy him.

He washed his body until he was red and stinging that night. The same with his face and hair. He then put on a face mask, and went about cleaning his room.

When Hunk came home that night, his room smelled like cleaning products, and incense. He was removing a load of laundry from the dryer, and putting another in the wash. He looked clean, and awake for the first time in a month. He gave his best friend a little smile  and wave as he headed to put new, fresh sheets on his bed.

It was during this time that Lance was glad he had great friends. He worked at getting his grades back up. He poured himself into winning his boss’ affections back. He stopped drinking and eating away his sadness, instead, he went to the gym, got back into gymnastics, took more photos, did everything he could to right the train wreck he’d brought onto himself.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Every time he crossed paths with Keith, he felt a little sting in his chest. Whenever he heard his voice, he’d flinch, or look up hopefully, like his ex was going to speak to him. He never was going to, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream. He had yet to rebound though, which he was proud of, and worried about.

When Lance went through breakups, he either rebounded about fifty times with fifty different people, or he didn’t at all. This time, it seemed to be the latter, seeing as how he didn’t necessarily have time. He was cramming the first project of the semester, which he would have had three weeks to do if he hadn’t blown it off, into four days. He was stressed, but he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

The project was ‘Night’. They had been instructed to take twenty photos of things at night, no matter what they may have been. Which meant Lance took six photos a night, driving all over his city to complete the project. He got pictures of Hunk and Shay having a night in, of Pidge surrounded by a mountain of homework, of party goers standing in lines or drunk on sidewalks, of nature and highways from an overpass. Overall, he took some great photos.

His teacher agreed.

“Lance,” She’d said, catching his wrist as he headed out the door after one class period. “Glad to have you back.”

He had smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Delarosa.”

Pidge had insisted they celebrate.

“Look, you’ve been good for a while! Let’s go drink,” They had insisted. Lance laughed, shaking his head.

“No, drinking on a Friday is never a good idea.” He told them as he put his things away. Hunk piped up.

“Actually Lance, you could use the break. It’s been a while, and you’ve really turned yourself around. Your grades are back up, you’ve been working out and doing your skin care routine again; you can afford one night of drinking.”

“Exactly! And what’s the worst that could happen, you get super drunk and fuck someone. Sounds like a great night to me!” Pidge insisted, yanking on his arm. “Who knows, you may go out and find some older man or woman who wants a twink!”

“Pidge!” He shouted, mortified as his friends laughed at him.

“Plus, you can wear that sweater you really like.” Hunk added. They were really trying to coerce him… but he wasn’t falling for it. Not this time.

“Guys, we aren’t legal. Hunk’s a year off, I’m two, and Pidge, you’re three. You also look like a toddler. There’s no way we’re getting into any bar-”

“You’re talking to a genius, Lance McClain,” Pidge said, whipping out three realistic looking IDs. “One for each of us. No there’s literally no reason for you _not_ to come out drinking with us.”

“Oh my God, fine! I will go just to get you to shut up!” lance agreed finally, making Pidge cheer.

“Great! Go get dressed, and look sexy, you’re getting laid tonight!”

After some pushing and pulling from his friends, they finally decided on him wearing a black keyhole sweater, nice fitting jeans, and Converse. Anything to make him look older, Pidge had said. They left in Hunk’s car, heading for a seedy dive bar closer to downtown than their house.

The bar wasn’t awful, but it was a bit crowded. Pidge ran off, more than likely to pour whiskey down her throat. She had an iron stomach when it came to stuff like that. Shay had met them at the bar, so Hunk disappeared with her, leaving Lance alone to shove his way to the bar. Once he sat down he sighed, wondering why he’d let his friends talk him into this if they were just going to ditch him.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked. Lance smiled softly.

“Virgin pina colada.” No one said he necessarily _had_ to drink. The seat next to him was filled, and he looked over, meeting eyes with an older looking man, with salt and pepper hair. He was built like a brick wall, and had overly sharp canines. Lance was only slightly intimidated.

“Not a drinker?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly, like he smoked a pack an hour. It made Lance shift away a little.

“Not big on it. Trying to stay sober.” Lance thanked the bartender once his drink was delivered and dug around for his wallet. The man stopped him.

“I’ve got it. If you’re staying virgin, that means you’re spending less.” He said, making Lance laugh, a little awkwardly. It had been so long since he’d had someone flirt with him, he wasn’t really sure how to react. A sharp pain hit his heart when he thought of Keith, and his previous relationship. He tried to ignore it.

“Oh, thank you. I’m Lance.”

“Zarkon,” He said, making Lance raise a brow.

“Zarkon?”

“It’s Russian.” He explaining, making Lance nod and take a sip of his drink. “Zakhar Mikhailov, but my son started calling me Zarkon when he was young, and it stuck.”

“You have a son?” Okay, maybe this guy was what he was looking for. Or, what Pidge had described; an older guy who was looking for… a younger male. He’d die before he referred to himself that way.

“Loukian Mikhailov, Lotor,” He sounded a bit reserved talking about him. “He should be about… 26 soon.”

Lance choked. Okay, this guy was a _lot_ older than him. He smiled, trying to be civil.

“Do you mind me asking how old you are?”

Zarkon raised a brow. “I have a feeling you aren’t going to like my answer.”

“Please?” He put on a coy smile, knowing he’d dip if this guy was older than his comfortable range. Zarkon took his wrist in hand, and Lance figured he’d fucked up. He was just glad the guy didn’t have a chance to touch his drink, he didn’t feel like getting molested would be good for his current mental state.

“I’m 54.”

Yeah, yeah, that was way out of his age range. He laughed uncomfortably and tried pulling his wrist away. “I should get going, I’m supposed to meet a friend of mine here.” He knew Hunk would bail him out if necessary. He tried to look over his shoulder for the latter, but Zarkon tapped his jaw.

“Don’t you consider it rude to disappear on someone who bought you a drink? At least talk to me a little more, despite my age, I’m a rather interesting individual.” He purred, and Lance gulped. Shit. Shit, he was definitely getting molested.

“I’m meeting someone for a date!” He lied quickly, trying to pull himself free again. “And how would it look if I was sitting with someone else?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been leading me on, cute thing. I think he can wait a few minutes.” Zarkon’s other hand came to rest on his thigh, and he shuddered in disgust. His eyes frantically flipped around, looking for Pidge, or Hunk, or even Shay, that woman was unstoppable when she wanted to be.

“I, I really should go-"

A large hand landed on his shoulder, and Lance breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was Hunk. Then a deep, charming voice that flowed like honey spoke, and Lance knew it wasn’t his friend, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m sorry I’m late, traffic was crazy. Not a great way to start a first date, I’m aware.” It said, and Lance found himself leaning into that hand. Zarkon released his wrist. “And you are? Are you a friend of my date here?”

“No… your little boyfriend here was teasing me,” He lied, and Lance narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t aware that asking someone’s _age_ was flirting. The man seemed to pick up on his deceit.

“While I’m sure that isn’t the case, I’ll go ahead and apologize, and reimburse you for the drink.” He handed the man a twenty, making Lance’s eyes widen. So he had money, and his voice sounded like porn. Huh.

Zarkon peered at the twenty and took it, getting up and bumbling away. The hand left, and Lance breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, I really didn’t want to get raped.”

“Of course, I noticed how he was getting handsy and had to step in. Sorry for eavesdropping, though.” The man crossed around in front of him as Lance continued saying gratitudes.

“I was looking for a way out anyway, and you gave it to me, so thank you…” He trailed off when he got his first look at him, and oh man, what a look it was.

While Zarkon’s build was intimidatingly large, this man looked to be on the right side of muscular, but not too muscular. He’d assumed it was his right hand that had been on Lance’s shoulder, because he hadn’t seen metal when he’d handed Zarkon the money. Only one of his hands was human, but it didn’t distract from his overall sexiness. He had a scar across his nose, which had the same effect. His hair was black, and undercut, with white bangs. And to top it all off, he wore a button down that he’d rolled the sleeves up on and black pants. Lance was sure he was drooling.

“...okay?”

Lance shook his head and looked at the man’s concerned face. “Huh?"

“I asked if you were okay. That was intense,” He said, looking Lance over, much like a parent would. He liked that look a lot better than Zarkon’s.

“I’m okay. Just,” Checking you out? No, Lance couldn’t say that, not to the guy you may have just saved him from a very, very bad night. “Looking at you.” Way to go.

The man smiled and looked at Lance again, this time a lot more like someone who was interested in him than a parent. Lance liked it. He didn't feel uncomfortable and like a piece of meat like he did before, he felt… hot.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much to look at here. I think you’re a much better sight to see.” he flirted and wow, Lance liked the way he said things.

“What’s your name, Casanova?” He said, placing his elbows on the bar and resting his chin on his joined fingers, showing off the hole in his sweater. The man glanced down, though it wouldn’t have been obvious if Lance wasn’t watching like a hawk.

“I think I like Casanova. How about you?”

“Come on, you have to have a name! I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He bargained. The man laughed, and oh, Lance liked that sound. He wanted to hear that sound again.

“Alright. I’m Shiro.”

“Lance,” He grinned. “Tell me more about yourself, Shiro.”

He learned a lot about Shiro that night. He learned that the man was 31, he lived in Japan until he was 10 years old, then immigrated to the United States to live with an uncle of his. From there, he funded his own way through college, and now was, in his own words, ‘well off’. He had two cats, a male and female Maine Coon.

Lance talked about school. About how he wanted to go into photography, about living with Hunk and how his friends had to drag him out of the house to even go out that night. He told Shiro how he didn’t have much of a life and how he binge watched shows on Netflix, which led to a fifteen minute argument about which was better, The Office or Parks and Rec. And if anyone asked, Parks and Rec totally won.

“Okay, okay, big question; Stranger Things, yes or no?” Shiro asked.

“Yes! Mike and Eleven are so cute!” He shouted. Shiro laughed.

“I know! I thought I would die during season 2, when-”

“No, shush, shut up, I haven’t seen it!” Lance yelled, putting his fingers in his ears. Shiro looked aghast.

“How dare you! You have to watch it! That’s it, you’re coming home with me and we’re watching all of it tonight.” Shiro said, paying their bill and standing.

Lance scoffed. “Alright, you’re on, old man!”

“Old man?” He looked at Lance incredulously. “I’m 31!”

“And I’m much younger than you. Let’s go!”

As Shiro led lance to his car, his hand on the small of his back, he realized a few things. One, it was about 3 in the morning. Two, Shiro smelled really good. Three, he drove a really nice car, but seemed not to care about Lance’s grungy self sitting on it. Four?

He hadn’t thought about Keith once.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a Sunday update; hello! My schedule is going to try and be every Wednesday and Sunday updates, but if I miss a Wednesday, expect an update Sunday, and vice versa! Once again, this is unbeta’d, so sorry about typos and things! It might be a little slow to get to the relationship, and even slower to get to the love triangle; hang on! We’ll get there! Thank you for all the comments and kudos left on this work; I really appreciate them! Enjoy this chapter!

Lance hummed as he rolled over in bed, pressing his cheek further against the no doubt Egyptian cotton sheets. The mattress was huge, and molded perfectly around his body. Light shone through the window, but it didn’t bother Lance. He was warm, and comfortable, and he definitely needed to sleep in this bed again.

  
A shower ran somewhere in the house, and the smell of coffee filled the air. Something fuzzy rubbed against his exposed arm, purring loudly, leading Lance to realize it was a cat. Slowly, he blinked open his eyes, coming face to face with an angry looking, black, fluffy cat. It kept purring, however, so Lance scratched behind its ears. The cat tried licking his wrist, which made him laugh softly.

  
“Aren’t you cute?” He said quietly, looking around the room. Shiro’s house wasn’t extremely fancy, but it was better than his own. The decor looked beautiful, in shades of soft pink, black and emerald green, but it didn’t really look lived in. The only indicators that someone actually lived in the townhouse was the cat that weaved in and out of your legs as you walked, and the car parked in the garage. Still, the house was beautiful.  
The shower clicked off and Lance pushed himself back into the pillows, his view of the door a little obstructed by the cat. A door parallel to him opened, and Shiro stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He didn’t space Lance a second glance, so he took time to stare.

  
Contrary to what would be considered ‘bringing someone home from the bar’ etiquette, they didn’t sleep together. Ineated, Shiro popped some popcorn and got them each a drink, and they watched their show untl way late into the night. Somewhere around the middle of the fourth episode, Lance was asleep. And since Shiro didn’t seem like the type of guy to molest someone who wasn’t conscious, Lance had to only assume he’d been carried to Shiro’s bed from the living room.

  
It wasn’t a far fetch to believe Shiro had carried him. He was ripped. His back muscles flexed and shifted as he moved about, getting ready for his day. He had a long scar down his back, from the top of one shoulder to the edge of the towel he’d put around himself. One of his arms was metal, though it didn’t stick out from the rest of his body. Instead, it made him look stronger, like a survivor. Sexier. Lance wiped at his mouth to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

  
“Enjoying the view?”

  
Shiro’s voice caught him off guard and Lance blushed, hiding his face in the plush fur of the cat.

  
“I wasn’t staring,” He tried, but Shiro just chuckled.  
“There’s coffee downstairs if you want a cup.” Lance chose to move his face from the cat, looking up to see Shiro now in boxer shorts, at his closet, a pair of scrubs in hand. He raised an eyebrow.

  
“Are you a nurse?” He asked, sitting up. The cat meowed at his moving, then climbed up his thighs and began getting settled in his lap. He rubbed its head.

  
“Doctor.” He said nonchalantly, pulling on blue pants before looking over. “Looks like he likes you.”

  
Lance didn’t miss the change in topic, but looked down at the cat and smiled anyway. “Yeah. He’s cute. What’s his name?”

  
“Armani.” Shiro told him as he finished getting dressed. He looked good in his scrubs, or Lance thought so, at least. “You can borrow some clothes to wear, if you want. I know the walk of shame doesn’t really apply here, but it's a bit colder today than it was yesterday.”  
Lance looked down and sure enough, he’d slept in his jeans and sweater. Which wasn’t bad, but he knew they’d be wrinkled and gross to wear back to his house. With a little nod, he set Armani on the bed and got up.

  
“Thank you. So… we didn’t…?”

  
“No,” Shiro stepped aside so Lance could get in his drawers. “You were asleep and a little emotional towards the end of the night, and I wasn’t going to be that guy.”

Lance liked Shiro, he decided. “I appreciate it. The last thing I’d want is my hero to be the one who ended up taking advantage of me.”

  
There was a little scoff from Shiro, who was moving around the room as Lance began searching. “I’m not a hero. I did what any respectable person should do.”

  
“Well I’d like to call you a hero, if you don’t mind,” Lance teased. There was a little bit of silence before Shiro’s bedroom door opened.

  
“Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll drive you home.”

  
And with that, he left. Lance frowned a little, thinking he might have touched on a bad nerve. He pulled some clothes out of Shiro’s drawers, a black sweatshirt, branded with ARMY, and some sweatpants. He figured it would be warmer than what he had on, so he got changed, found his phone, and headed for the stairs, Armani trotting along right beside him, like he was the cat’s owner.

  
Shiro stood in his kitchen, pouring his coffee into a thermos. Lance stood back and watched. He looked… almost out of place in his house. Maybe it's because the furniture and decor looked like it had been bought from a catalogue and not changed at all. There was nothing… distinctive about the house that made Lance think yes, this is where Shiro lived. He didn’t like it. This man deserved a home, not just a hostel.

  
“The mugs are above the sink,” Shiro told him, pulling him out of his thoughts for the second time that hour. Lance opened up a black cabinet and pulled out the first mug his fingers wrapped around, letting Shiro pour him a cup. “And creamer is in the fridge, if you want any.”

  
“Oh, you’re the type to buy creamer?” He joked, making Shiro chuckle. Good, Lance wanted to improve his dour mood. “I imagined you’d be the type to just snort coffee powder rather than add actual milk and sugar to it.”

  
“I do drink coffee black,” He said, confirming Lance’s thoughts. “But I have a couple of friends who convinced me to try creamer. Mainly so that way whenever they’re over they can have it to drink.”

  
Lance laughed, pouring a good amount of cinnamon roll creamer into his coffee. It was his favorite, after all, before putting it back into the fridge. “So you’re not a triple Venti half sweet non-fat caramel macchiato type of guy?”

  
“I’m surprised you could even say that without messing up.”

  
“I’ve had a lot of practice. My order is about as long as that one was.” He said honestly, following Shiro as he put on his shoes and got ready to go, Lance doing the same.

  
“Let’s hear it then.”

  
“A venti half and half, eight pumps of vanilla, two pumps of caramel with extra whip,” Shiro shook his head exasperatedly, making Lance grin. “I know, Keith used to react the same way whenever I ordered.”

  
And just like that, Lance had ruined what had been a pretty great time with Shiro.  
He looked up from his shoes, finally finishing tying them. “Keith?”

  
“M-My ex,” Lance stuttered, swallowing hard. Shiro nodded and stood, getting his jacket and keys.

 

“Recent breakup?”  
“A couple of months,” He tried to sound nonchalant about it, though his voice was shaking. He sipped his coffee.

  
“How long were you together?” Shiro didn’t sound upset, but Lance could feel the weird vibe he was giving off. Great. He’d just blew his shot at any form of a relationship with Shiro. Guess he could write this one off as another thing Keith had ruined for him.

  
“Four years.”

  
Shiro whistled. “Damn, that must have been harsh. Did he dump you over text or something?”

  
“I wish,” He followed Shiro into his garage, towards the same black luxury looking vehicle he’d rode in the night prior. Now he felt even more underdressed as he got inside. “He dumped me at our normal date restaurant a couple of weeks before the new semester was supposed to start.”

  
They pulled out of the garage, and Shiro looked over at him with a little smirk on his face. “No offense to you, but it sounds like you dated a prick.”

  
Lance snorted. He covered his face with a hand and laughed, setting his coffee in the cupholder. “I guess I did. He was kind of a prick the whole time we were together, now that I think about it.” Shiro smiled fondly at him.

  
“How so?”

  
Before Lance knew it, he’d run down the course of his relationship with Shiro, from Keith’s anger issues to his bout of depression, and how he’d treated Lance throughout each. He told him about his past, his familial issues, and how Lance had let those sort of cloud how Keith had treated him. He was emotionally unavailable, and he hadn’t told Lance he loved him until two and half years into their relationship.

  
He didn’t cry as he spoke, but he couldn’t deny a few tears were drawn to his eyes. Shiro listened, but didn’t interrupt as he went. Lance appreciated it. As they arrived at his apartment building, he finally finished. He felt so… free now that he’d gotten it all out. His chest felt less tense, his shoulders didn’t slump as much.

  
“The way I see it,” Shiro started, parking his car near the sidewalk by his building. “You were in a relationship that was one sided. You poured all of yourself into this, and Keith sort of left you out to dry. And that wasn’t fair to you.”

  
Lance smiled softly. “Are you a therapist or something?”

  
“Definitely not, but let’s say I know a lot about how the human mind works. Do you feel better?”

  
Lance sighed heavily. “Yeah. I do. Thank you. I know that’s a total boner killer, hearing about a guy’s ex.”

  
“You needed to vent. I’m just glad I could be a shoulder to lean on.” He said and honestly? Lance could see himself falling in love with this guy. “Could I have your number? Maybe we could have lunch sometime, and I could show you how you should have been treated.”

  
Lance grinned widely. “Yeah. Totally.”  
He waved as Shiro’s car pulled off, holding his clothes and coffee mug in hand. Shiro had told him to hold on to the things he’d borrowed, so Lance had a reason to come over again. He liked it. He felt special. He climbed the steps to his apartment and opened the unlocked door, seeing Pidge on their couch, playing something on their TV. Music blared from the kitchen, telling Lance that Hunk was cooking. His friend looked up when he entered.

  
“Hunk! Lance isn’t dead!”

  
“Hey Hunk,” Lance said, trying to go to his room so he could set his things down and put on leggings or something, Shiro’s sweatpants were huge on him. His thighs felt like they were floating in soft material, which he liked, but he wanted to wear something fitting. However, his friend stopped him in his tracks, a huge mixing bowl in hand.

  
“No, you don’t just get to ‘hey Hunk’ me and walk by! Where did you go last night? Pidge said she saw you talking to some creepy old guy and then you disappeared! I was going to call the police, Lance!”

  
“Calm down, mom, I was fine,” He laughed a little. Pidge barked out a laugh and Hunk narrowed his eyes.

  
“I’m just looking out for you. You don’t know how many weirdos there are out there!” He pointed his spoon at Lance’s face. The Cuban swiped a finger across the dough and tasted it.

  
“Banana bread?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

  
“Yes, and don’t think I’m going to forget! Where did you go?”

  
Lance sighed, noticing that now Pidge was listening in. He drank more of his coffee and finally decided to talk.

  
“I went home with somebody.”

  
“Called it!” Pidge shouted, vaulting over the back of the sofa. “I told you he screwed that old guy! Nice job Lance; does your ass hurt?”

  
“Pidge!”

  
“One, I didn’t go home with that old guy and two, I didn’t have sex!” He told them. Their face got confused and they crossed their arms.

  
“You went home with someone and didn’t have sex with them? Sounds like a serial killer.” They said. Hunk balked, shoving Pidge with his elbow.

  
“Pidge, oh my God, shut up! Lance, that’s amazing. Who did you end up going home with?”

  
Lance didn’t want to get his hopes up on Shiro. He didn’t want to tell his friends that he went home with him, and then have him ditch Lance in the dust a couple of days later. So he shrugged.

  
“The guy who saved me from the old guy. He was really gross, he thought I owed him conversation because he bought me a single drink.” He shuddered. Pidge nodded with an upturned lip.

  
“Agreed. What was the guy’s house like? Was it out in the middle of nowhere? Did he have any art? Does he have pets? Does he have a TV in his living room? Were there any suspicious rugs or barrels lying around? Did you happen to smell any lasting scents of blood or meat decaying?”

  
“Pidge.” Hunk rolled his eyes.

  
“What? I’m just making sure our friend’s lovely face stays on his skull and not on some human fuckdoll.”

“Ew!” Hunk shouted. “What the hell, Pidge?!”

  
“He didn’t have much art.” Lance wasn’t bothered by his friend’s creepy interest, he was too busy thinking about Shiro and his house. “It didn’t really look… lived in. It looks like he bought the house furnished and never brought any of his own things in.”

  
“Serial killer,” Pidge sang.

  
“But he has a cat. A black fluffy cat named Armani, and he had food in his fridge, so it’s not like he’s eating people.”

  
“Maybe not now.”

  
“Okay, Pidge, go back to your game,” Hunk shouted, turning to face Lance. “You had a nice night with a sweet guy who obviously drove you home and let you borrow clothes. Don’t worry about Pidge, I think they’re the serial killer.”

Lance smiled. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and he tried not to be too excited at the prospect of Shiro texting him. “Thanks Hunk, I’m gonna go change.” He said, slipping by his friend. He headed for his room, tossed his clothes into his hampar, and pulled out his phone. He had a new message from a number he didn’t recognize.

_Hey, it’s Shiro. I know I dropped you off an hour ago, but I want to see you again. How does lunch sound, 1:30?_

  
His heart fluttered and he sat down on his bed, staring at his phone screen. Oh God. He hadn’t replied to a flirty text in years. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to be flirty too? Or should he be standoffish and hard to get? No, he wanted Shiro to like him and… he was an adult. He was an adult interested in 19 year old Lance. He knew what he wanted, and if Lance played games with him, he’d probably drop him without a second thought.

  
He definitely didn’t want that.

  
 _yeah! any place specifically? i’ll meet you there_  
He didn’t know if it was a date, but Lance was excited nonetheless. He grabbed a pair of his own sweatpants and pulled them on, picking up some things around his room. He was… excited. He was going out with a guy who found attractive, and one who Lance found incredibly attractive. He was in his closet, absentmindedly trying to put clothes on hangers, smiling to himself. When his phone sounded again, he dove across his bed and grabbed it.

  
_Perfect. How does Bella’s sound? I would kill for a slice of pie right now._

  
Lance shook his head and smiled, rolling onto his back.

  
_please don’t tell me you’re one of those freaks who likes blackberry pie_

  
He didn’t have to wait long for a response.

  
_Did you just call me a freak? I’m offended._

  
Lance laughed and messaged Shiro back before tossing his phone on his bed, and panicking. First date etiquette had slipped his mind, and he had no idea how he was supposed to dress. Bella’s was a cute little cafe not far from his campus, and he had gone there plenty of times with Pidge and Hunk. But whenever they went together, they wore the clothes they’d worn to classes, no matter if they were jeans and collared shirts, or sweatpants with week-old stains. He stared at his closet and began rifling through it.

  
Everything looked wrong. His normal jeans looked too distressed, his shirts looks either too formal or too casual. Leggings were out, because no one wanted to see him in those, and his suit was a definite no. He sat on his floor, digging through his shoes. Boots would work, if he had an outfit to wear them worth. Vans were good to make formal outfits look dressed down, but he didn’t want to go formal. His beat up slippers made him recoil; why did he even still have those? He groaned loudly and fell back onto the mountain of things he’d thrown about.

  
“What’s going on in here?” He glanced over and saw Pidge in the doorway, their arms crossed over their chest. “Your closet looks like it vomited.”

  
“I wish that was the case,” He grumbled. “I have a date.”

  
“With the serial killer?” They asked, coming in and taking a seat on Lance’s bed. He made a noncommittal noise. “Why don’t you go sexy? Wear that blue top you like so much.”

  
Lance knew which one she was talking about, his deep blue, semi-sheer top he adored that made his abs look really good. But it was a bit much for a lunch date. Maybe some other time, if Shiro invited him over for dinner or something.

  
“No, we’re just going to lunch.”

  
“Where?” They asked, their telltale shuffling proving they were now helping looking through his clothes.

  
“Bella’s.”

  
“Yeah, you definitely don’t want to wear that one to Bella’s. How about the red sweater?”

  
Lance sat up and looked at the sweater, and frowned. It was one Keith had bought him for Valentine’s Day years ago. He shook his head and took it from her.

  
“I should have gotten rid of that a while back.”

  
They sensed his sadness and sighed. “Throw it out and let me handle this. A lunch date at Bella’s with a…?”

  
“Doctor.” He filled in.

  
“Doctor. Go put that in the garbage where it belongs, and come back so I can style you.”

  
Although Pidge didn’t conform to gender normatives, they were amazing at putting clothes together, so Lance wasn’t worried. And he didn’t have a reason to be. They dressed him in black Converse, skinny jeans, a concert shirt he’d gotten with Hunk in high school, and a cardigan. It was the right amount of casual for a lunch date, yet he looked good in it. And they’d insisted he wear just a little foundation, and mascara, so he didn’t look tired. After he was dressed, Hunk and Pidge stood in their living room, looking him over.

  
“Do one more turn,” Hunk said, looking very closely at him. Lance compiled and smiled awkwardly.

  
“What do you think? Am I presentable enough to go out, mom?”

  
Hunk glared playfully and nodded. “Yes, but you tell that doctor to keep his hands to himself. I don’t know what the guy looks like, but I’m sure I could whip his ass if need be.”

  
Lance laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know, he’s a little intimidating.”

  
Pidge snorted. “Please, Hunk’s big enough to take on Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson and win. I don’t think anyone could beat him in a fight. Look at these muscles! He can lift me like I don’t weigh anything!”

  
“You also are the size of a toddler, Pidge,” Lance said, gathering his things and waving. “Wish me luck! I’ll see you all later.”

  
“Be good! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Pidge called out to him, making him laugh. That wasn’t much.

  
He rode the bus to Bella’s, fiddling with his fingers nervously. Maybe he was reading into this. Shiro probably didn’t even think of this as a date. He probably just wanted to see Lance because they shared a bed the night before and didn’t have sex, so it was a little… strange? He didn’t know, but he did know that he and Shiro were 12 years apart, and he thought of Lance as a kid, if that. Not a romantic interest. So he should just see this as… a lunch with a friend.

  
Lance got off the bus and walked the block to the restaurant, going in and getting a table for him and Shiro. He played on his phone and looked at the menu while he waited, scrolling through Instagram to keep his mind busy and off of the task at hand.

  
There were pictures of Shay and Hunk at dinner. Of Pidge at her nerd conventions and with her brother and mother when they went to visit her. Videos of her being done that he definitely didn’t watch every day. Then, he came across a picture of Keith, at a concert with some guy.  
His heart stopped for a second. Keith looked the same as he always had, with messy black hair and tattoos down both arms. His tongue was out, so the silver piercing was visible, and he held a beer in his hand. It was the guy Lance was drawn to. He was tall, with short brown hair and a thick beard. He had a sleeve tattoo, and wore a muscle shirt so Lance could see his developed chest. He wore multiple rings, and had this look on his face of effortless beauty. He also held a beer, and his other arm was around Keith’s waist. Lance felt sick.

  
He checked the caption. Keith had written; “Blade concert with an ex-roadie, guess who met Kolivan afterwards?” And he’d tagged the guy’s name. Lance clicked on the profile.

  
He found out his name was Thace. He was 27, owned a guitar shop in the next town over, was an aspiring photographer, and used to be a local cage fighter. Apparently, there was nothing this guy couldn’t do. One picture had him in the midst of a fight, and another had him holding an adorable little girl with purple braids, huge smiles on both of their faces. And his most recent picture was with Keith. They were in a music store, no doubt his, seated on a bench. Keith had a bass in his hands, and Thace sat behind him, instructing him on how to position his fingers. The caption read; “I think he was lying about not knowing how to hold a bass, but when he’s sitting in my lap, how can I complain?”

  
He set down his phone with a pit in his gut. Sure, he shouldn’t care about Keith, they were done, completely, and Lance didn’t want him back anymore. But it still sucked knowing he’d found a new boyfriend. Especially one so far out of Lance’s league. Was that what he’d wanted?

  
“Sorry for making you wait, I hope you haven’t been long,” He looked up and saw Shiro’s smiling face. It brightened his mood a little.

  
“Oh, no, not long.” He didn’t want to tell Shiro more about his old relationship, so he tried to fix his look. “How’s work?”

  
Shiro looked a little concerned as he sat down. “It’s been fine, I have a surgery later to remove a growth. Are you alright, Lance? Are you feeling well?”

  
“What?” He must have still looked like he was about to vomit. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just…” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry that this is what we keep ending up talking about, but, Keith’s got a new boyfriend. Or, I think that’s what that guy is.”

  
Shiro gave him a sympathetic look. “How’d you find out? Did a friend tell you?”

  
“Instagram,” He spat, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, we can talk about something else.”

  
“Lance, you’re young and this breakup is still fresh in your mind. You know I’m here to be an ear if you need it. What’s this new boyfriend like?”

  
Lance practically talked Shio’s ear off. He liked having someone to talk to about this, especially someone who wasn’t in his friend group and who didn’t know Keith. Once they’d discussed Keith’s stupid new boyfriend, Shiro told Lance about his job. He’d removed a tumor that morning, which sounded awesome to Lance. Shiro bought lunch and dessert, and told Lance about his time in the army.

  
“Wait, so you got your arm blown off?”

  
Shiro put another bite of pie in his mouth and nodded. “In Afghanistan. The members of my unit were absolutely terrified, and I just kind of looked at it and sighed.”

  
“You weren’t in any pain?!” Lance found that impossible.

  
“Oh, I was in way too much pain to even feel it? Like, my arm got blown off and I was in a crazy amount of pain, but I couldn’t even express it because I had never experienced that much pain in my life.” He explained. Lance was awestruck.

  
“And you got back to your camp all without screaming or crying once?” He asked, finishing off his own pie. Shiro laughed.

  
“I may have shed a few tears on the way back, but don’t tell anyone about it,” He said conspiratorially, and Lance giggled and nodded. “Then I got sent back to the United States on a honorable discharge, and got this.” He showed Lance his arm. “I went back to school, finished up my doctorate and got my job.”

  
“I love your arm, by the way. A friend of mine would call it a ‘technical wonder’.” He joked.

  
“Well I’m honored.”

  
Shiro drove Lance home again. He blushed and thanked him, and promised to give him his clothes and mug back next time. He was worried on the ride home that he’d ruined everything he’d had with Shiro by venting about his ex so much.

  
Then Shiro invited him for dinner that weekend.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned at the end of the chapter for a little poll!
> 
> Alright, I know I'm a day off, but its the thought that counts, right? I updated a day off, that should count for something. I'm overwhelmed by how many support this fic! Thank all of you so much for reading, leaving kudos and comments! I am cranking out chapters as quick as I can and I'm a little ahead of schedule right now, so expect on time updates next week! I am still unbeta'd, but thank you all for not yelling at me about it!

Lance liked Shiro. After that first awkward couple of days, things seemed to just be… natural. He went to Shiro’s for dinner later that week, and he found out that he could  _ cook _ . He made Lance a home cooked meal that might have even rivaled his mother’s; oven-roasted potatoes, roast beef and a crumb cake for dessert. He felt like a king as he ate, but he was a bit upset with himself for dressing ‘sexy’ so he couldn’t pig out.

He was at Shiro’s dining room table, watching as he poured a glass of wine for himself, and a glass of water for Lance, respecting that he was still staying away from alcohol. It made him smile.

“How have you been all week?” He asked as he sat down.

“Alright, work is hell though. My boss is pissed at me from when I was slacking earlier this year, so he’s been putting me through the ringer and back again. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he hates me.” He sighed, smiling as Shiro began making his plate for him. He liked being pampered like this, even if it was on such a small scale with something insignificant.

“Where do you work?” Shiro asked as he set Lance’s plate down.

“Thank you. I work at Sears. I’m technically supposed to work in clothes and retail, but lately I’ve been put in appliances, specifically moving washers and dryers to people’s care,” Shiro grimaced in understanding and Lance sighed. “But I guess I deserve it. And I’m making a little more in appliances, so it’s a win-lose.”

“I remember working through college,” Shiro mused as Lance began eating. “I worked in a kitchen, surprise, surprise. That’s where I learned to do all of this.”

“Yeah, I was about to ask how a high paid doctor knew how to cook five star food,” He said around a bite of potato. “Because this is like, as good as my mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that though, she’d come up here and fight me.”

Shiro laughed. “I won’t say anything, but thank you. Where is your mom?”

“Arizona,” He said with a smile. “She’s probably the best woman I know.”

“Tell me about her.”

That was one of the things Lance really, really,  _ really  _ liked about Shiro. He was actually interested in his life. He likes hearing about Lance, and his life, and things he liked. He wasn’t just asking so Lance would talk and he could zone out.

“My mom… she’s incredible. She raised me, my three older brothers and two older sisters,” He told him.

“Big family.”

“ _ Huge _ ! And she didn’t miss a beat! She was there when my oldest sister Maria had her quinceañera, and she was there when I graduated high school. The birth if her first grandchild? There. She was the inspiration of my first photography project. She gives the best hugs, and she would always hold me whenever I was upset, even in high school after it had stopped being considered ‘cool’ to hug your mom.” He mused,  a soft, happy smile on his face. Shiro smiled right back at him, and he blushed softly.

“How old is she?” He asked, and Lance felt his heart soar at the idea of this man actually taking an interest in his family.

“She turns 64 this year, but you would never even know it!” He dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a picture he’d taken with his mother the last time she’d come to visit. His mother was as beautiful she’d been when he was growing up, with thick, curly red hair and freckles dusted across her tan skin. He showed Shiro proudly.

“Wow, you really can’t tell. She’s beautiful. I see where you get your good looks from.”

Lance laughed. “I credit my mom for my figure and freckles, but everything else I got from my dad,” Though he was blushing something terrible. He set his phone down and met Shiro’s eyes. “A-Anyway, I’ve gone on about my mom enough, I want to know more about you.”

“There isn’t really much to tell you,” Shiro played off the question, taking a drink of his wine. Lance bumped his leg with his foot.

“Come on, there’s a whole world of things I don’t know about you! Where did you go to high school, what made you join the Army, what’s your favorite memory, when did you get Armani, what’s your family like; there’s a million things I want to know!”

Shiro chuckled and Lance blushed just at the  _ sound _ . This man was like sex on legs. “I don’t think I’m all that interesting.”

“Well I do.” He said, crossing his arms playfully. “So let’s hear it.”

He learned that Shiro had gone to high school in New York, then he moved when he joined the Army. He had been a football player and a tutor when he was young, which made a lot of sense. He said for a short stint during his time in college, he had long hair, which Lance had demanded to see, and then spent a solid five minutes just staring. He looked scruffy and unshaven and  _ hot _ and Lance was dying.

He saw Shiro that Monday at work. He’d gone in to open and he would be there until 12, so he had told Shiro he wouldn’t see him until after he’d showered and gotten changed, then he’d probably stop by and pet Armani before his evening lecture.

Around 8 am, Lance was in the refrigerator section, polishing the chrome handles which always ended up sticky with child fingerprints when he was tapped on the shoulder. Thinking it was a customer, he put on his best theater smile and turned.

“Hi, what can I help you find-” It was Shiro, holding an obscenely large Starbucks coffee that looked way too intricate to be for himself. “Shiro? What are you doing here?”

“I know how you are about eating while you work, so I brought you this to fuel you until 12,” He explained, handing the drink to Lance, who took it with a semi-shocked face. “You have no idea how mortifying it was to go up to the counter and order that. The specificity you put into your drink is phenomenal.”

Lance, now looking completely bewildered, took a sip of the drink. Vanilla and caramel hit his tongue, along with a bitter coffee aftertaste, and he gave Shiro a little dazed smile.

“You listened?”

“Of course I did,” His watch beeped and he sighed. “I’ve got to get going, but I’m glad I got to see you. Have a good day!”

Lance watched him go and took another long drink of his coffee. He really did like Shrio.

They did a lot of things together. They saw movies, went to dinner, went bowling and mini golfing- which Shiro totally dominated at, until Lance got him in the arcade -and generally just hung out at his house. Bit by bit, Lance was making the house more comfortable. His neatly placed throw pillows and blankets were used when they caught up on whatever show the other was obsessed with that week. The fridge had food, actual food as Shiro insisted on cooking for and feeding Lance whenever he was over. Armani had toys scattered about, little balls of yarn and jingly bells that Shiro had so gracefully tripped over the minute Lance had brought them over. And when Lance had tried to help him up, Armani had tripped him trying to get to his owner, which resulted in a few minutes of the two of them laying on the ground, laughing and groaning in pain and amusement.

They had yet to kiss. Sure, they cuddled, and hugged upon seeing one another, and Shiro would hold the back of Lance’s neck when they walked which made Lance’s nerves sing and his insides go to mush every time. He grabbed Shiro’s hand during intense parts of TV shows and when places were particularly crowded, and Shiro more often than not would rest his hand on Lance’s knee just to comfort him. They’d shared beds and cars, food and drinks from time to time when they picked up things on the way back from Shiro’s job and Lance’s classes; but they didn’t kiss.

And that was fine. They weren’t in a relationship. Well, they weren’t  _ officially  _ in a relationship. But Shiro brought Lance coffee sometimes in the morning. And they would meet after his classes to go back and spend time together. And they had dinner every Friday, whether it was out in public or inside Shiro’s place. And Lance had a drawer. A drawer in Shiro’s dresser than held some of Lance’s skin care products, and some clothes and shoes, just to be prepared if they were to go on a surprise date, like when Shiro had called Lance from his job and told Lance to get dressed, and he was only wearing one of Shiro’s huge t-shirts and boxers. He thanked God for that drawer that day.

But they weren’t in a relationship.

“You and this guy are getting pretty serious, huh?” Pidge had asked towards mid-April. Lance was in his apartment for once, getting some clothes for the weekend ahead of him. Shiro had said they had a lot planned, and it made Lance’s heart skip a beat when he told him to pack  _ for the entire week _ .

“I guess so,” He hummed, folding up a couple of shirts. Pidge snorted.

“You guess so? Lance, you’ve been gone every weekend recently, and almost every night. You smell like new cologne, and you can’t tell me you  _ don’t  _ have new clothes hanging out in your closet.” They said as Lance put things into his backpack.

He shrugged. “I’m more just borrowing stuff from him.” But he couldn’t say he hadn’t collected a few more pair of comfortable shorts and some punny t-shirts that Shiro actually appreciated, unlike some people.

“Still! When am I going to get to meet this guy? You haven’t even told me his name,” They pouted. Lance laughed.

He wasn’t planning on telling his friends who he was seeing. Shiro was older, which meant he had less time, less of a social life, and less patience. If he wanted to ditch Lance at any second, he could, and Lance couldn’t blame him for that. He was in his prime, wanting to settle down and start having kids… and Lance  _ was  _ a kid. Well, according to his mama he would be. In his mind, he was 100% man. Which made Shiro like, 1000%. He didn’t have to play silly little games with Lance if he didn’t want to. Lance could be disposed of easily. So he was just… along for the ride.

“You’ll meet him soon,” He lied, folding up his laptop charger and setting it in his bag. Pidge huffed.

“Can’t you tell me his name, at least? Or is that classified information too, Mr. Bond?” They crossed their arms and glared at Lance, and he tried not to wither under their gaze. Being with Shiro was  _ exciting _ , and he wanted to just fall onto his bed and tell his friends everything once he got home from hanging out with him, but he just… couldn’t.

“I’m sorry Pidge, I just don’t know how serious this is going to get! You understand, I don’t want to get my hopes up all for nothing.”

Pidge rolled their eyes. “He bought you a super expensive tennis bracelet. I think it’s serious.”

Right. Lance gripped his wrist. There was that.

Later on in that week, Shiro took Lance to a storage unit. He’d told him to ‘dress comfortably’, because they were going to be cleaning it out. He didn’t tell him why, but Lance was excited to find more things Shiro had kept tucked away.

“You ready?” He’d asked, dressed in black basketball shorts and a muscle shirt and Lance was trying very hard not to drool when he nodded. With a little effort, Shiro grunted and opened up the unit, revealing a pretty well organized space, the walls lined with bookshelves filled with boxes. There were some things under sheets that Shiro chose head for.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Lance asked, wandering towards a shelf. “And can I snoop through boxes?”

“You aren’t snooping if I know you’re doing it,” He laughed, waving a hand at Lance. “Go ahead, have it. Most of it is Army stuff and college supplies.” Never one to turn down the opportunity to see Shiro with long hair, Lance  pulled one of the boxes down and began looking through it. “And I’m only looking for a couple of things, I’m mainly trying to get rid of useless stuff."

“Useless?” Lance questioned, pulling out a picture frame from a box. Shiro was dressed in Army camo, posing with a few other guys wearing the same thing against a mountain scene. He smiled. “I think some of this stuff could be pretty cool.”

“For what?”

“Well,” He pulled out another photo and snorted softly, it was of Shiro at a bar with those same two men, one in a bar. He set the photo down carefully, not wanting to break anything of Shiro’s. “For your house.”

“My house is already decorated,” Shiro defended, and there was some shuffling as he moved things around. “I don’t need this junk in it.”

“It isn’t junk!” He said, holding up a camo jacket, branded with Shiro’s last name. He smiled softly. “I think it’d be nice for your guests, or family to see what you’ve accomplished. Put your doctorate up there or something. Or maybe some of these pictures.”

“God, I don’t even know where my doctorate is. It’s somewhere in here.” He said nonchalantly, making Lance gasp.

“Okay, here; let me pick out some things-”

“How much is  _ some _ ?” Shiro cut him off. “Because I’ve seen what you consider some M&Ms versus some fruit in the morning.”

“I don’t like very many fruits,” Lance laughed, finally looking over his shoulder at Shiro, who had moved the tarp off of what looked to be a pool table. “One box. I’ll pick one box of things for you to bring back to your place, and we can decorate together.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, and looked like he was thinking. Eventually, after string at Lance’s puppy dog eyes for long enough, he sighed.

“Okay. One box, and that’s it. And I want you to check with me before you put anything into it, okay?” His tone could only be described as parental, and Lance resisted the urge to roll his eyes like he would if it were Hunk.

“Alright  _ dad _ .”

Shiro shuddered and shook his head, although he had a little smile on his face. “And  _ never  _ call me that again.”

Lance laughed and put everything back into the Army box before moving onto another, this one seeming to be filled with only clothes. Some baby clothes of Shiro’s that made Lance coo, all the way up to what looked like it would fit the man now. Lance might have set aside some of those clothes for personal reasons, then folded the baby cloths back up.

“Shiro?” He said inquistively as he laid some socks down. “Do you think you want kids?”

Shiro was quiet, and Lance tried not to get uncomfortable with his lack of response. He put away that box and grabbed a different one, now looking through a multitude of picture frames. Finally, Shiro sighed.

“Probably. Why do you ask?”

Lance shrugged. “You’re 31, you’re in that age where most people want to settle down and have kids, and get married. Do you want that whole lifestyle… or does it not appeal to you?”

“I’d like to settle down at some point,” Shiro said, and Lance tried not to let his heart flutter too terribly. “And have one or two kids. I’m not one for huge families… I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

“So you couldn’t have a huge family like me?” He teased, and he could hear Shiro chuckle under his breath.

“While I’m sure  _ you  _ handled that family well, I wouldn’t be able to keep my focus for five or six kids. I’d get to my sixth and just be tired and want to sleep all the time. Not fair to that one child,” There was some crashing and shifting, and Lance turned to look over his shoulder at Shiro, who was holding a black and white patterned surfboard. “So yeah, probably two kids sounds about right.”

“What do you need that for?” Lance asked, putting some things he’d been picking out into a box. Shiro smiled.

“I’m going out of town when summer starts.”

Lance didn’t want to deflate at that idea, but the concept of not seeing Shiro over the summer made him absolutely miserable. He’d have to spend time at home, which he hadn’t been doing a lot of recently. He saw Hunk and Pidge in classes, and wherever they met up for study groups, and he’d like to keep it that way. There was something about being at Shiro’s house all the time that made him feel… mature. Grown up. Or at the very least, special. Like Shiro cared about him.

“Where are you going?” Lance asked as he finished packing up his box and stood. Shiro held the board under his arm as they headed back to his car.

“California, for this year’s Clinical Congress. I’ll be out for two weeks in early June. It’s an annual convention for each hospital’s top three surgeons, and I’ve been invited to go this year since, not to brag or anything, I’m the number two surgeon at our hospital.” Shiro told him, and Lance smiled and rolled his eyes. He sometimes forgot Shiro was such a nerd.

“Who’s the number one?” He asked, putting his box in the backseat and getting into the passenger’s next to Shiro.

“Matthew Holt. He did two separations of conjoined twins this year, one pair from the United States, one from India. He also performed a Thoracic Aortic dissection repair, which took over 40 hours to complete. He’s incredible,” Shiro didn’t sound jealous, so Lance assumed he should like this Matthew guy. “He’s speaking at the convention, which he’s been stressing about for weeks. But I know he’ll be amazing.”

“He sounds like an awesome guy,” Lance wasn’t speaking just to speak, he meant what he said. “Wonder if I’ll ever meet him.” He joked.

Shiro hummed. “Maybe. What did you put in your little box back there?”

Lance was more than happy to tell Shiro what he’d brought back to put in the house. Shiro said he wanted to look over some of the things once they got back from lunch, but he trusted Lance’s judgement. They went to Bella’s- their frequently visited restaurant now -and got their usual table, in the corner on the front wall, where windows met brick. Their waitress, a sweet girl named Flora, knew their orders and had them placed before they sat down. Lance found it sweet.

“So,” He said, hooking his fingers together and resting his chin on them. “Tell me about this nerd convention.”

Shiro looked playfully scandalized before smiling. “The whole convention actually only runs for five days, but Matt and I decided we were going to stay an extra week. We need the time off, and there’s some band line up that he wants to see while we’re out there. Some festival?”

“Coachella,” He said automatically, assuming that was where Matthew wanted to go. Shiro shook his head.

“No, he says the CEO of… Coachella?” Lance nodded, telling Shiro his pronunciation was right, and he continued. “Is super against the LGBT community, and is a little racist, so he’d never go.”

“That’s fair. So you’re going to surf and he’s going to a music festival. Sounds like a fun week.”

“That isn’t all we’re planning on doing,” Shiro scolded softly, making Lance laugh. “He has a whole itinerary he sent me in an email a couple of days ago. Color coded and everything.”

“Let’s see this incredibly organized itinerary. I want to see everything you’re going to do.” Lance had been to California before, and he knew what the good sights were. Shiro pulled it up on his phone, and Lance began looking over it. “Mhm… mhm… okay… no, skip Joe’s Crab Shack and go to Oscar’s Mexican Seafood. It’s about the same prices, and Oscar’s is so much better. Oh, and completely  _ skip  _ SeaWorld. Don’t even waste your time on animal abuse. Go swim in the ocean, you’ll get a much better experience with sea life there.”

“You know a lot about California.” Shiro mused, and Lance shrugged.

“I’ve been a lot. For my birthday every other year, we would go because I loved it so much, and because it reminded my mama and papa of home.” He said quietly.

“Where’s home?”

Lance looked up. “Cuba. That’s where my family is from. My abuela and aunts and uncles are all still down there. It’s funny… I call Cuba home, and I’ve never been.”

“Why not?” Shiro sounded interested now. Their food was set down, and Lance smiled, eating a few of his fries.

“We never had the money. Six kids is a lot of money out of pocket. Abuela would come and see us for holidays sometimes, whenever she could afford it, but that wasn’t often. So mama and papa would tell us what they could about Cuba, and how it looked, what it felt like to live there. We had pictures of the beaches and streets all over the house… so they wouldn’t forget.” He sighed. Shiro took his hand.

“Are your parents…?” He didn’t have to finish his sentence for Lance to get what he was asking.

“Yeah. So are two of my older brothers, and one of my older sisters. But I’m a citizen, and so is Enrique, and Dalila. We were the anchor babies.” He shrugged. “Papa and Maria are working on it. My brothers already have it… you aren’t going to call immigration on us, are you?” He joked to try and lighten the mood, and Shiro smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Your parents seem like good, honest people; I have nothing to gain from calling anyone on you.” He rubbed Lance’s hand with his thumb. The gesture was greatly appreciated, and he sighed. “I wish I could show you Cuba though. Unfortunately, I can only offer you a ticket to California.”

“It’s alright, I don’t even really consider Cuba home-” He stopped mid-sentence, a tiny smile spreading across his face. “Wait… you’re joking, right? You aren’t serious right now?”

“I’m allowed to bring a plus one and I really don’t like the idea of being almost 3,000 miles away from you for two weeks,” He looked happy, but a little apprehensive. It was adorable. “Would you like to come with me? All expenses paid, of course.”

Lance’s face was almost impossibly stretched out, and he clasped a hand over his mouth. “This is actually happening, you want me to come to California with you?”

“If you’d like to.”

Now, there was a piece of Lance that was saying, “What the hell are you doing?! You’ve only known him for four months and you’re going across the country with him? What if you get murdered?! What if you get raped? What if you get raped  _ and  _ murdered?! Your friends don’t even know who he is, you can’t go with him!” And he should take all of those things into consideration.

But.

He’d be out of classes. He would be turning 20 that year. He could just tell Hunk where he was going, but not who he was going with. And he liked Shiro. He liked Shiro so much. And, by the look on the older man’s voice, Shiro liked him just as much. It was an  _ all expense paid trip  _ to California. When would that opportunity come up for a 20 year old college student again? Yeah, try never. And maybe… while they were in California, experiencing some of the most beautiful scenery in the United States… a romantic relationship could develop. It was a slim chance. A small sliver of hope that maybe Lance shouldn’t be holding onto.

But it was a chance.

“Okay,” He couldn’t keep the giggle out of his voice. “I’ll go with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few questions I would just like to ask those who care, so here we go!
> 
> Would you enjoy a full chapter just focused around the goings on in California, or would you just want that to just be a section of a chapter?
> 
> And should I link my Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram on here?
> 
> That's all! I'd like to see what you think in the comments.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should just change it to Thursday and Saturday night updates but then I’ll update Friday and Monday. Anyways, I just got off work, my feet hurt and I just like hearing how happy I make people so posting now will leave me with good comments to wake up to in the morning.
> 
> I have decided to make California its own chapter! Thank you to everyone who... “voted”? Per say? But yeah, California will be its own chapter.
> 
> I am unbeta’d and unedited, so please bear with me! I hope you enjoy and mark the tag changes! Thank you to all of your kind comments and for leaving kudos!

Hunk was suspicious.

  
“So… you’re going to California?” He’d asked as Lance blithely packed up his suitcase.

  
“Yeah!”

  
“With a guy… you’ve known for four months.”

  
“Uh huh.”

  
“That I’ve never met.”

  
“Yep!”

  
“You’re insane,” He scoffed, crossing his arms across his barrel chest. “You’ve gone absolutely crazy! Lance, you can’t do this, what if-”

  
“What if he kills me, what if he rapes me, what if, what if, what if; I can’t live my life based on what ifs, Hunk! This is exciting, I’m going to California with an incredibly hot guy who personally invited me! We’re going to the Gaslamp Quarter, and scuba diving, and we’re going to a music festival! And I’m showing him all of the best places to eat out there, Hunk.” He knew his gourmand friend would like that little tidbit.

  
Hunk’s lips pursed. “I’ve never met him.”

  
“Geez, you actually do sound like a mom. Lighten up! It’s just a little trip, I’ll be back by mid-June. You act like I won’t be back for years.” He folded up a couple of swimsuits and packed them up.

  
“You might not be if you’re _dead_!” Hunk shouted, making Lance laugh.

  
“I won’t die. And I’m going. I’m going to California with a hot guy who wants me just as bad as I want him.” His spat those words a little. Hunk sighed.

  
“Please tell me you aren’t doing this as a final fuck you to Keith. You only broke up five months ago, its still-”

  
“I don’t even think about Keith anymore,” He cut him off, closing the top of his suitcase a bit harder than necessary. “Or I hadn’t, until you mentioned that.”

  
“Lance, its okay to rebound, you’ve done it before and you’ve done it _hard_. Maybe this time you’re just, taking a new route.” He offered. Lance gave him a glare.

  
“I’m not rebounding. I don’t feel like an asshole when I’m with him. I don’t feel guilty being out in public with him. I genuinely like being around him.” He told him matter-of-factly, zipping up his suitcase. He set it on the floor and moved on to his carry-on. “Besides, since when have any of my rebounds ever lasted more than a couple of days? I’ve been seeing him for weeks. Four months, as you pointed out. This isn’t a rebound, this is serious.”

  
Hunk looked him over as he shoved things into his bag, then shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this? Okay, I don’t have a problem with you going as long as you call me every morning and night to let me make sure you’re alive. You don’t call me before you go to bed, I immediately call the police.” He bargained, making Lance crack a smile. He really appreciated his best friend’s worry, it made him feel like he could stop worrying himself.

  
“Alright, every morning and night, and you have to hear my voice specifically, or you call in SWAT.” He joked.

  
“You think I’m kidding? I will call in the fucking Coast Guard on you if I have to,” He insisted, making Lance laugh and nod.

  
“Okay, mom! I’ll be good and call you.”

  
The end of school came and went, and Lance was faced with the fact that he had only two years of college left until he was an adult. And then what would he do? Shay hosted a ‘congratulations on making it through another year of college’ party which Lance happily attended alongside Pidge, since Hunk had catered the whole event for his lovely girlfriend. She had invited a monstrous amount of people for her little house, but still, it was a warm, fun event.

  
Lance had camped out on Shay’s couch with a plate of food and a glass of sparkling cider, because Shay understood not everyone could or wanted to drink. Pidge was racing a girl in their class on Mario Kart, and losing terribly. Music played softly in the background wich was drowned out by people talking and laughing. It was nice.

  
“Motherfucker!” Pidge shouted as they were hit with a blue shell, and the girl won. “How did you do that? This is my shit! I smoke Lance and Hunk in Mario Kart weekly!”

  
“Hey!” Lance laughed, trying to defend himself as his short friend stomped and raved. “I’m getting better! I kick your ass in Street Fighter though!”

  
The door opened in the kitchen and Lance didn’t pay it any mind, people were filtering in and out like crazy, why should he care? He crossed his legs and took a drink from his glass.

  
“Hey Keith, where have you been hiding these past few months?”

  
He spit, and Pidge screamed.

  
“Asshole! I just bought this sweatshirt! Now you have to clean it!” They said, wrestling their body out of a white NASA hoodie, which was then dropped on his lap. He couldn’t focus on it. His eyes were drawn to Keith, standing next to that same tall, dark and handsome man he’d been posing with on Instagram. _Thace_. They looked incredibly happy. He looked away.

  
“I’ve been studying. I graduate next year, you know?” He defended himself. Pidge finally saw why he’d spit, and they dropped down next to him on the sofa.  
“Do you want me to get you out of here? I can set Shay’s kitchen on fire.” They offered.

  
“That’s where the door is,” Lance managed, then shook his head.

  
“Um… oh, if they drove an electric car, I can put a virus on it that’ll make everything be in a gibberish language!” They exclaimed, making Lance shush them.

  
“No, no. I had to face this at some point… I guess now is as good a time as any.” He sighed.

  
“Yeah, before you skip the state,” They weren’t very happy about the lack of detail about his impromptu trip as well.

“I wish you luck, bud. Call me if you want the trash can in flames.”

  
“I will.” He would not.

  
Pidge departed and Lance sighed, running a hand down his face and drinking more. He needed something _way_ stronger than cider right then. People kept talking and Pidge started up a new game, leaving Lance alone on the couch again.

  
But not for long.

  
With a beer in hand, Keith sat down next to Lance.

  
“Hey.” He greeted quietly.

  
“H-Hi.” Lance stuttered, and drank more. He craved the cold burn of vodka right then. Keith drank some of his beer and Lance shifted a little.

  
“How have you been? It’s been a while…” Keith asked.

  
“I’ve been good. I got back on track in school,” Lance was proud to talk about that. “And I finally got that tattoo I’ve been wanting.”

  
“Oh, for real? Let me see it.” Keith sounded vaguely interested. It made Lance a little irritated, but he rolled up his sleeve and showed it to him.

  
The tattoo was of the Cuban flag on his upper arm, with his mama’s handwriting underneath it. The words read, in Spanish, “You are always in my heart.” He had gotten it with Shiro in mid-May. He smiled fondly just thinking about it. It was one of his favorite days he’d spent with the older man; he’d gotten his first tattoo, and Shiro had gotten one of his touched up. Then they had a picnic near the lake, and spent the rest of the day inside with Armani cuddling.

  
“It looks really good,” Keith said monotonously, and Lance smiled.

  
“Yeah. I got it in May-” His phone started ringing and he grimaced, pulling it from his pocket. Shiro’s name appeared and he grinned widely. “Uh, give me a second.”

  
“Sure.”

  
Lance answered the call. “Hey.”

  
“Hey baby, what time did you want me to pick you up at again? I’ll be in a meeting until 7:30, then I’ll be alright to come get you,” He told him, making Lance bit his lip. Oh yeah, Shiro had taken to calling him baby and cutie. And he was not exaggerating when he said it was the cutest thing in the world.

  
“Oh, 8 will work.” He just wanted to get in bed and curl up with him.

  
“8? That’s a little early to leave a party, are you ducking out for some reason? Do you need to get out?” He sounded concerned and Lance’s face warmed. He loved that Shiro was actually worried.

  
“No, no, I just want to come home early,” He said honestly. “Nothing’s the matter.”

  
“Alright, as long as you’re sure. Eight then.”

  
“Can we pick up milkshakes on the way home?” He asked excitedly, making Shiro laugh.

  
“Anything for you, cutie. I’ll see you at eight.” He promised, and Lance hummed.

  
“See you. Bye.”

  
He hung up and looked over to Keith, who’s lip was curled so minutely that if Lance hadn’t dated him for four years, he wouldn’t have noticed. He put his phone away, not filled with pride because Keith was jealous, but happy just to hear Shiro’s voice, and that he was worried about him. And he called him baby. That would never get old.

  
“Who was that?” Keith asked once Lance had finally gotten settled.

  
“Oh, that was just,” His boyfriend? His friend? The man taking him on a vacation that weekend? “Someone I’m seeing.”

  
“Oh.” Keith actually sounded stunned. “You could have told me.”

  
Lance scoffed. “Like you told me about Thace?”

  
Keith winced softly and drank more. Lance tried not to see that as a little win on his part. “I’m sorry,” He said softly. “I wanted to tell you, but Hunk threatened me bodily if I got near your house.”

  
“I haven’t been home much,” He said truthfully. “So I guess you lost your cell phone then?”

  
“You didn’t really make it easy to contact you. Look, I didn’t come over here to fight. I wanted to make amends. We left things on a bad note and… I’m really sorry. I miss you. We were in each other’s lives for years, and being seperated so quickly was hard.” He sighed. Lance nodded minutely, it had been hard. “We don’t have to be best friends or anything but… I don’t want us to be enemies.”

  
Lance swallowed and looked down. He’d done a good job purging himself of Keith, of that entire relationship. He’d been doing… really well without him. Did he need him back?

  
“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “We can be civil.”

  
“Cool,” Keith sounded only slightly relieved. “So. You’ve been seeing someone?”

  
“For about four months,” He confirmed. Keith’s eyebrows quirked.

  
“Really? That’s a while.” The underlying sentence there? You got with him a month after we broke up. Lance had the audacity to grin a little.

  
“Yeah. We’re going on vacation together this weekend. He’s a really great guy.” He sighed dreamily. Keith shifted, a little uncomfortable. Lance smirked. “How long have you and Thace been together?”

  
“Oh, we aren’t together,” He said quickly, shocking Lance. They took flirty pictures together and posted them on social media, but they weren’t together? Interesting. “But, I mean… we’ve been talking for a couple of months.”

  
“Talking? What, he won’t commit?” Lance joked. Keith shrugged.

  
“He says wait until I graduate for anything… serious. So we’re just… hanging out as friends. Really close friends, I guess.”

  
Lance finished eating and his drink just to avoid Keith seeing his smile. Alright, yeah, they were in the same boat and both of their older men weren’t technically in a relationship with them; but Shiro was a lot closer with Lance than Thace was with Keith. He sighed and stood.

  
“Well, good luck Keith. I’ll see you around.”

  
“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “See you.”

  
Lance left that conversation in a much better mood than he assumed Keith did.

  
Shiro got them a cab to the airport that Saturday. They’d packed their things into the trunk that morning at 8, and Shiro told him Matt and the other surgeon would meet them at the airport. Neither of them were bringing a plus one. Lance felt special.

  
Shiro bought him breakfast when they got there. They got muffins and coffee at Starbucks and waited for the others, not wanting to check their bags onto the flight before they got there. Lance scrolled away on his phone, tucked under Shiro’s arm as they sat on a bench against a window.

  
“Takashi!” A male voice shouted. Both Lance and Shiro looked up to see a tall, averagely built man coming towards them, a suitcase trailing behind him.

  
“Matthew. Are you ready?” He asked, standing and greeting his friend with a hug. Lance smiled at Matthew, who looked him up and down.

  
“Takashi Shirogane, when you told me you were bringing someone hot, I didn’t think you were _this_ serious!” He ditched his bags and took Lance’s hand, making the Cuban boy blush. “Hello beautiful, I’m Matthew Holt, and I’m going to steal you away from your boyfriend here.”

  
Lance giggled and Shiro slid his arm between them. “Back off Matt, he’s with me. Where’s Iverson?” Shiro put his arm around Lance’s waist and pulled him into his side, making his face even brighter. Matt grimaced.

  
“Oh… you didn’t hear. Iverson can’t make it, his wife is having her cataracts taken out tomorrow,” He explained as they headed to check in for their flight. Shiro furrowed his brows.

  
“So who’s coming with us? They wouldn’t send just you and me alone.”

  
“It’s-”

  
“Matthew! You left me in the taxi to pay for the whole trip! That was 14 dollars and 62 cents out of my spending money for San Diego; and you had better reimburse me for it!”

  
Shiro groaned loudly, and Matt laughed awkwardly. A short man ran up to them, carrying two full sized suitcases, and a carry on. He looked visibly flustered, and he dropped all of his things onto the ground when he reached them. He wore thin, wire framed glasses and had a heavy, unplaceable accent.

  
“Slav, it was one cab ride. I’ll pay for all of the ones we take in California. Or me and Shiro can split the fares?” He looked hopefully at his friend.

  
“Nope, nuh uh, Lance and I are renting a car,” He wasn’t budging on that, and he held Lance close, even as they got in line to check their bags onto their flights. The man- Slav -looked Lance up and down.

  
“Who is this? He doesn’t work with us, why is he with you? Is he staying with you until we get on the flight, Shiro?” His questions were rapid fire, and Shiro clenched his jaw.

  
“He’s my plus one. Lance, Slav, Slav, Lance.” He introduced them quickly, and went back to staring straight ahead. Lance smiled at Slav softly, trying not to offend the other surgeon.

  
“It’s nice to meet you.”

  
“It’s very nice to meet you too. I am Slav Jaricino, Ph.D. I am a surgeon alongside Matthew and Shirogane here, but while Matthew is a general surgeon with a specialty in orthopedic surgery and Shirogane is a neurosurgeon, I am one of the top OB GYN surgeons in the country!” Slav bragged. Shiro’s eye twitched.

  
“You aren’t a _surgeon_ , you’re a _doctor_. Get it right.” He snapped.

  
“I am a surgeon! I birthed over 200 babies in the last year, and over 8,000 in my career! I have performed C-sections, used clamps and vacuums and anything else needed to save the life of both the mother and baby! I have-”

  
“Oh my God, you aren’t a surgeon!” Matthew shouted, making Lance snort softly. So _no one_ liked Slav. This would be simultaneously annoying and entertaining to bear witness to.

  
Shiro let Lance have the window seat when they got on the plane. They sat next to one another in a row of two, and Matt and Slav were on the opposite aisle, separated from Lance and Shiro by a row of three seats, which made Shiro finally relax. He rested his hand on Lance’s knee, which made him smile and blush.

 

“So… you don’t like that guy at all?” He asked, and Shiro snorted.

  
“He is probably the only person on the face of the planet that I hate,” He said honesty as the normal safety speech began. “I would have much rather you have met Iverson. At least he’s calm. He’s a little intimidating, but once you get to know him, he’s a real nice guy.”

  
“Slav isn’t even a surgeon… why is he here?” He asked.

  
“Whether he's a surgeon or not, his numbers don’t lie. Slav did deliver the most babies in the Northeastern region last year,” The man could be heard talking, probably to a stewardess about how safe the plane was. Shiro rolled his eyes intensely. “However, he’s a major pain in the ass and I hate his guts.”

  
“I understand,” He placed his hand over Shiro’s and squeezed, prompting the bigger man to turn his hand over the hold Lance’s. He smiled softly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a neurosurgeon? That’s awesome.”

  
“I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging. Like, look at me, I have a lot of money and I work in a job that requires a lot of skill and patience; I’m incredible.” He explained. Lance laughed.

  
“I wouldn’t have thought that. I think it’s sexy. You’re really smart and incredibly talented. Well, with most people,” He laughed, and Shiro cracked a smile.

  
“Maybe I should just tell you everything then.”

  
“Maybe you should. But not right now, I brought a huge coloring book, and I’m planning on finishing it before we touch down.” He said, getting into his carry on. “Plane rides always bore the hell out of me.”

  
“I can’t say I don’t agree.” Shiro mused as Lance pulled out a thick coloring book and a 64 pack of colored pencils. “I may actually join you.”

  
“Really? Mr. Grown-Up wants to color with me?” He teased, flipping to a half colored drawing of a couple in a field, surrounded by beautiful scenery. He’d been working on it for a while.

  
“If you’d let me.” Shiro said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with a cute little smile, and Lance wanted to kiss it right off of his handsome face. Instead, he tore a page with a lion on it and handed it to him.

  
“Gladly.”

  
They colored for the first two hours of their flight, then Shiro put the divider between their seats up and let Lance lean against him while they watched a movie on his laptop. Shiro’s arm was heavy, but not uncomfortable, over Lance’s shoulders, and his fingers brushed Lance’s side every time the plane bounced or jolted, and he loved it. He might have dozed off a little, incredibly content against Shiro’s side.

  
Slav didn’t stop talking throughout the flight.

  
Matthew ordered many bottles of vodka.

  
When they touched down, Lance was woken up Shiro gently. He sighed and stretched a little, sighing and reaching for his shoes, which he had so casually slipped off halfway through their flight. They packed away the rest of their things in their carry ons and slipped out, their hands clasped between them. And even though it was just the airport, Lance felt his mood substantially lift just knowing he was in California.

  
“Did you pack your camera?” Shiro asked as they waited with a slightly intoxicated Matthew and a overly talkative Slav. They both ignored him.

  
“Of course I did! I brought my camera and my tripod, I’m so excited to take photos all week!” He said happily, reaching for his bag when it came around on the conveyor. Shiro stopped him and took their bags for them, making Lance blush. “Did you pay for our car on the plane?”

  
“Yeah,” Shiro told him, looking over at Matthew, who was struggling to pull his bag off the conveyor while Slav chattered about how many people die in airports every year. He gave the other surgeon a grimace before pulling Lance towards the exit. “And let’s go before Slav asks for a rie and then he finds out what room number we’re in at the hotel.”

  
“He does seem like the type to come inspect your bed for bedbugs, effectively cockblocking everyone in the room,” Lance hummed and Shiro gasped.

  
“You _have_ seen The Office!”

  
Lance laughed as they stepped outside, and sighed, taking in the air that actually smelled like the ocean. People bustled around in too short shorts and muscle tees. Sunglasses rested on their heads. Parents walked with their kids who all had awkward tan lines and ice cream cones in hand.

  
It was wonderful.

  
“Baby, you ready to go?” Shiro asked, gesturing towards a person who held the sign for their rental car. He nodded and got his own bags just to spite the older man, and walked with him.

  
They drove along the beach to get to their hotel. Lance rolled down the passenger window and held his hand out, smiling softly as warm air rushed over his arms. He turned on the radio and took off the jacket he’d worn on the plane.

  
“You look happy,” Shiro commented. Lance glanced over to see him with the same sort of smile on his face, but Lance could tell it wasn’t from being in California. It made him look away.

  
“It’s good to be back here,” He said honestly. “I guess I just have high hopes for this trip.”

  
High hopes? Yeah, Lance could say he had high hopes. He wanted to get some good pictures for class, of the beach and animals and people and scenery; everything. He wanted to let himself have fun and not be worried about anything happening back home. He wanted to feel his feet in the sand and the sun on his face. He wanted to sleep in a huge bed in a hotel overlooking San Diego.

  
He wanted Shiro to kiss him.

  
Lance glanced over at the man, who also looked relaxed. The lines that framed his mouth and eyes were softened. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding Lance’s. He had a gentle look in his face and eyes. California was the state for dreamers.

  
He just hoped _his_ dream would come true.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reeeeeeeally debated posting this chapter yet, but I decided to go ahead and do it before I go into work, so I have happy things to come back to! Once again, this is a Thursday update but please bear with me!
> 
> I am unedited and unbeta’d.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos!

For a good part of the first week, Lance was on his own.

It wasn’t awful, he supposed. He missed Shiro in the mornings and afternoons while he was gone at his nerd convention, but he knew that was why the two of them were even there. Every morning, while Lance was cuddled down in their huge king sized bed overlooking the ocean, Shiro would be up and getting ready. And every day before he left, Shiro would come over, run a hand through Lance’s hair and scratch his scalp, which would make him purr quietly in appreciation.

“I’ll be back around 4, baby,” He’d whisper, scratching near his ears and making Lance sigh and curl into his palm. “Have a good day.”

And then he’d leave.

So Lance spent the week by himself, exploring California.

It was fun. He went to the beach and tanned for the first day, which proved a little difficult because he got hit on more than once, by both men and women. At one point, he would have been flattered. But this was just annoying. He thought about that as he turned to get his stomach darkened. Why did he find this flirting annoying now? When he was with his ex, he would soak up the flirting just to watch his face go red and give Lance _really_ possessive sex once they got home. But now, he felt uncomfortable. His skin crawled and he squirmed uncomfortably, even when Shiro wasn’t with him to witness the flirting. Was it because Shiro was older? Whatever it was, Lance would politely turn down the flirting and let the sun warm him until his whole body felt fuzzy.

He took a lot of pictures. Holy _shit_ , he took a lot of pictures. He took pictures of the beach, of tide pools, of the boardwalk, of their hotel and the view from it; his camera was running out of storage. He was going to buy another SD card on his fourth day, since Shiro always gave him a little money to spend while he was gone.

But when he woke up, there was a brand new one sitting on his nightstand. He called Shiro and thanked him.

Lance mainly planned things he wanted to do with Shiro once the convention was over. Every night they got dinner. If Shiro wasn’t too tired, he’d take Lance out. If he was, they’d order in and cuddle up together under their blankets. That was one of Lance’s favorite parts of the trip.

On the last day of the convention, the first Friday, Shiro went about his morning routine. As he came to tell Lance goodbye though, the smaller man caught his wrist.

“Can we go out for dinner tonight?” He asked softly.

Shiro sighed and smiled. “Of course we can. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, beautiful. Is there any place in particular you want to go?”

Lance chewed his lip. “The Gaslamp Quarter? There’s a really good restaurant down there, and I want to just… walk down the boardwalk with you.”

“Okay baby,” He let Lance’s hand slip down to clasp his own. “We’ll go out tonight.”

Lance smiled and kissed Shiro’s knuckles gently. It was a little gesture that held so much, and the older seemed to notice. His smile got bigger and his eyes got softer, and he squeezed Lance’s hand gently.

“Okay. Have a good last day.” Lance said as he released him.

Shiro left and Lance let out a scared breath. He was nervous, he was so nervous. While they’d had dinners in the past and they’d done cutesy, romantic things, tonight would be different. Lance had an outfit already picked out, ready and dry cleaned.

He was going to kiss Shiro tonight.

He spent all day getting ready. He took two showers, one to deep clean and wash his body, and one to rinse and feel clean. He put on a harsh cleansing mask, one he promised he’d only use for the most intense of situations, such as this one. He gave himself a full manicure and pedicure, which hurt like a _bitch_ , he needed to have that done more often. He straightened out his short hair and put on a little makeup, some concealer and eyeliner to just accentuate, not to overpower.

Lance was getting dressed when Shiro came through the door, which made his heart seize a little. He was getting dressed in the bathroom, so it wasn’t like he could be seen, but it still made his breathing shaky. He buttoned up his top as Shiro knocked.

“Hey baby, are you ready?”

“I-In a minute!” He cursed his voice for faltering. He was fully dressed by this point, in a white blouse and nice jeans, and cute little ankle boots Shiro had bought him as a late, _late_ Valentine’s Day present. Lance thought he looked nice. He just hoped Shiro thought so too because he really needed this night to go well. He opened the door and stepped out, a little nervous smile on his face. “How do I look?”

Shiro looked him over with a grin, holding out his arms. Lance stepped into them like it was second nature, resting his head on his shoulder. Fingers trailed up Lance’s spine and he fought the urge to shudder happily.

“You look radiant. I’m sorry I look unkempt.” He was wearing Lance’s favorite suit, a deep gray one, though he’d ditched the tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons, which made Lance go weak at the knees. “You, however… I’m going to have to fight a lot of hands off tonight, aren’t I?”

“Is Matt coming with us?” He teased, going for his phone. He decided to leave his wallet; it wasn’t like Shiro would let him pay for anything. “And you look incredible. You always look incredible, even when you’re just waking up in the morning.”

“You’re too sweet.”

The car Shiro had rented had such a distinct California vibe that Lance couldn’t help but feel luxurious as he rode in it. The car was black and sleek, and the top came down, which was fine for residential roads, but not the highway. Shiro made sure to drive slow though, so Lance could enjoy it. And he did.

The street was busy when they arrived, but Lance didn’t expect anything less from a Friday night. He was glad he’d called ahead and made reservations though. Shiro opened his door for him and let Lance hook their arms together once he’d parked.

“When are our reservations, baby?” He asked as they strolled together. Couples passed by them, holding hands and staring lovingly at each other. Jazz musicians played on a stage tucked between two buildings in a little garden. The sun had just barely begun to creep towards the horizon. Lance took it all in.

“At 7. I thought we could window shop while we wait?” He offered, and Shiro squeezed his hand.

“And if anything catches your eye, tell me.”

They walked together for a while, looking into boutiques with much too expensive little trinkets. Jewelry sparkled in one store, and Lance couldn’t help but stare. It was silly, but a little necklace drew his eye. It wasn’t huge and glittering like a disco ball- like everything else in the store did -but it was shiny and it made Lance imagine it around his throat. Shiro noticed.

“See something?” He asked, moving his hand to the small of Lance’s back.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lance whispered, trying to draw his eyes away. Shiro followed his gaze and smiled, leading Lance into the store. He asked a clerk to pull the necklace, and soon, a blue velvet tablet laid in front of them, the necklace wrapped around a neck mold.

The chain was thin and silver, with a rounded heart hanging in the center. The state of California was engraved on the front. Shiro picked it up and unclasped it, carefully placing it on Lance’s neck. He touched it softly, in complete awe.

“Shiro,” He breathed, turning to face him. “This is, its too much, I can’t expect you to-”

Shiro cut him off by taking his biceps in his hand. “If you want it, I will more than happily get it for you,” He rubbed his arms gently, his face gentle, telling Lance he wasn’t lying.

He wasn’t used to this level of pampering and being taken care of. In honesty, Lance was used to paying for everything on his own, making ends meet with just barely enough money to cover his half of the rent. And dates? Dates used to be that whoever could pay for the meal would pay for it. No money for new clothes, extra outings or, sadly, no high end face mask that Lance always bought a $8 duplicate of.

Now, he wasn’t struggling to make rent. He was able to give Hunk his whole paycheck to cover it, and still had money left over for other things; because Shiro was paying. He paid for lunch and dinner whenever they went out, he gave Lance spending money if he was going to a late night lecture or just wanted to have something. He had a full, expensive, magnificent jar of that face mask. He had a closet full of new clothes that all lined up with his aesthetic, which made him incredibly happy. Shiro had only stopped short of pretty much buying Lance a car.

But, if Lance asked for it, he might get it.

“You buy me anything I want,” He said, turning to face Shiro, who’s sweet smile had yet to fade from his face.

“You deserve everything you want.” Shiro replied, running a gentle hand down Lance’s face, and cupping his chin after. “That and more. I’m just trying to make up for years of not being able to spoil you.”

His breath was quickening. God, Shiro smelled really nice, and he was _so close_ to Lance’s face. He didn’t plan on kissing him here, he’d had a whole idea he was going to put into motion after dinner, but he couldn’t look away from those smokey grey eyes, couldn’t pull away from the magnet that had to be pulling him towards the older man.

Lance parted his lips, Shiro’s warm breath fanned across his lips-

“Sir?” They were stopped by the clerk. Shiro glanced over to the slightly worried and confused looking young woman. “Are you going to purchase that?”

Shiro didn’t hesitate to take out his wallet and head to pay for the necklace, leaving Lance frozen in place, wondering what the hell just happened, and trying to figure out if he should ditch his entire plan to _just kiss the hell out of Shiro_.

“You ready to go?” Shiro held out his arm, and Lance looped his back through.

“Yeah. We should be able to get inside now.”

Lance hadn’t purposefully chosen one of the most expensive restaurants on the boardwalk, but once he’d caught a glimpse of the inside, he couldn’t shake the seafood place from his mind. They were seated next to a beautiful wooden bar at a table of the same color. A call shaped chandelier shone a soft yellow above them. The table was pristine, with a wine bucket waiting at the end of the table.

“Can I offer you a bottle of our Marques De Riscal?” Their hostess asked as Shiro pushed Lance’s chair in once he’d sat.

“Yes, thank you.”

They were handed menus and the hostess disappeared, leaving Shiro with a soft whistle.

“You really went all out in your choice today, baby. This place is beautiful,” He said flipping open his menu. “You fit right in.” A wine bottle popped open and Lance jumped, making Shiro laugh. “Well, almost.”

“Hey!” He laughed as well, looking over their food options. “I know you needed to have some authentic seafood while we were on the coast.”

“Speaking of the coast, you look darker. Have you tanned?” Lance didn’t miss the once over Shiro gave him. He preened a little.

“You noticed? Yeah, I’ve been out and all over all week, I’d be surprised if I didn’t look even a little tanner,” He teased.

“I see,” Shiro sighed softly. “I’m sorry you’ve been on your own this week. I wish I could have spent more time with you conscious.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Lance said sweetly as their wine was delivered. “You had a really important convention to go to. Speaking of which, how did it go? Tell me everything.”

“It was pretty boring-”

“Darling…” Lance had been waiting to use that one. Shiro went red, and his eyes flashed a little before he smiled and sat back in his chair.

“How can I say no to you?” He asked, not to Lance but in general

Lance grinned. “You can’t!”

At the convention, Shiro apparently got to talk to other surgeons about what they all went through that year, what their best operation was, what their craziest operation was, excetera, excetera. There were displays of new medical equipment and ideas that had been developed over the last year. People gave keynote speeches, those who were the best surgeon in their religion. Also known as, Matt got to give a speech about the conjoined twins he separated.

“People sort of see him as a God now,” Shiro said, taking a sip of his wine. He’d poured Lance a half glass, which he’d been pecking at over the time they waited for their food. “He was so nervous to go on, I had to wait in the wings because he wouldn’t go up if I didn’t.”

“Matt’s like, a lot younger than you. How did he beat you out?” Lance asked curiously. Shiro smiled.

“Matt and I specialize in two different things. I’m a neurosurgeon and we’re pretty rare, but Matt? He’s an emergency medical technician. He can be called into any surgery, any procedure, and know exactly what he’s doing.”

“Wow,” Lance was actually pretty impressed, but a little confused. “And he’s the guy who used to mix up blood and urine samples?” He’d remembered when Shiro told him that story.

“Yeah,” Shiro laughed. “He comes from a family of geniuses and they have a huge house with about three labs. That’s Matt.”

Matt sounded a lot like Pidge, Lance thought. It would be fun to introduce them and watch the world burn.

“He lives in a big place?”

“No, he’s moved into a little apartment now. His sister still lives at home though.” Shiro explained. Lance smiled playfully,

“What’s up with you doctors and buying little houses?” He laughed.

“Why would we need all of that space for one person?” Shiro questioned as their food was set down in front of them.

“It’s cramped with me there though. You need a bigger house if I’m going to keep hanging around,” Lance joked, smelling his shrimp ravioli and wiping at his mouth in case it was watering. Shiro looked thoughtful.

“When we get home, we can look into that.”

Lance nearly choked on his first bite of ravioli.

“W-Wait,” He stammered, coughing. Once he was safe and no longer in danger of choking, he looked seriously at Shiro. “You… want me to move in with you?”

“You practically live with me now,” Shiro reasoned. “And it would be nice for Armani to have someone around while Matt takes care of Emilia. Plus, you were the one who decorated my house to make it more homey… you could do so much better with a bigger place.”

Lance stared at Shiro in a mix of confusion and absolute, sheer happiness. He started weighing his options real quick. First of all, he’d only known Shiro for a couple of months… but he did pretty much lived with him at this point. Oh, Hunk wouldn’t be able to make rent on his own. But, his burly friend had been wanting to move in with Shay for a while. Oh God. Lance couldn’t find a reason to not move in with Shiro.

  
“Don’t worry about giving me an answer now, you can tell me later-”

“Okay,” He smiled widely at Shiro’s little nervous tone. “Yeah. Yeah! I’ll move in with you!”

Shiro let out a sigh of relief, a happy smile gracing his lips. “Good. And you can go at your own pace once we find a place, you don’t have to automatically pack up your things once we get home. Take your time and talk to your roommate about everything over the summer.”

Lance really loved that about Shiro. He was so considerate; he wasn’t going to force Lance to move in quickly just because he’d agreed to. He wouldn’t force Lance to do things that scared him or made him uncomfortable. Lance was the one to initiate cuddling, and sharing a bed, and Shiro never crossed his boundaries.

He drove Lance to classes. He bought him meals and clothes, paid for his camera repair when he’d dropped it in a bowl of pie filling Hunk was making, and he’d let Lance use him and his car for projects, whenever he needed to go out of their city. It was incredible, and the only thing Lance would ask for would be for that label, that final piece that would make Lance feel like his relationship was actually a _relationship_. But he couldn’t ask for it. He wouldn’t ask for it-

“Shiro,” Oh no, he was word vomiting. “I hate to be that little kid, acting like a teenager when I ask you this, but, you know, I’m not like you and I’ve never really had a serious relationship besides the one, and, uh, I guess I’m just asking-”

“Lance,” Shiro took his hand and lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. It was comforting. “Breathe. You know you don’t have to be nervous to ask me for anything.”

Lance did what he said, breathing deeply before nodding. “Okay. Okay…” He could do this. “Shiro… what do I… call you?”

“What do you mean? You can call me by my first name, if you want-”

“No, no,” Lance laughed softly, nervously. Their plates were taken and the check was placed down, but Shiro wasn’t worried about that. Lance had 100% of hi attention. It was intimidating… and ncie. “I mean, do I call you my… boyfriend? My s-sugar daddy, someone I’m seeing, my benefactor; what?”

Shiro laughed a little, making Lance blush. It was stupid, he shouldn’t have asked, and now the tissue paper they’d built their relationship on was torn-

“While ‘sugar daddy’ seems a lot more glamorous on your end, I think boyfriend works,” He told him, making Lance’s heart stop. “That is, as long as you’d be okay with calling me that.”

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, in shock. “I’d love to call you that.”

It was colder when they left the restaurant, and Shiro tucked Lance under his arm in a protective manner. It made him smile. Above them, the lamps were being lit up for the ambiance of the night ahead. Buildings were lit up with strings of yellow lights, making the street radiate a soft, warm glow. Waves crashed on the beach a ways down.

It was exactly what Lance wanted.

“I missed you this week,” He said softly as they rounded a corner, heading for their car.

“I missed you too. I don’t want to ever go that long without quality time with you again,” Shiro said in a low tone, making Lance’s face heat up and his chest go fuzzy. They passed other couples- other couples, that concept still made Lance’s head spin -as their car slowly came into view. Lance stopped Shiro under one of the lamps, so they were out of the way.

“Hey,” He said softly, putting his arms around Shiro’s neck, which he responded with by putting his arms around Lance’s waist.

“Hi,” Shiro said in the same tone.

Under the lights, Shiro looked godly. Though he hadn’t tanned nearly as much as Lance, he had a glow to his skin. His suit shone subtly, and his hands were warm on the small of the younger man’s back. Lance bit his lower lip, and Shiro’s eyes flicked down at the action.

“Lance,” He whispered, and Lance certainly didn’t miss the small tremble in his tone. “Can I… kiss you?”

Lance had thought he’d be the one to ask, since Shiro hadn’t been one to push romantic things; but with the way he asked, and how nervous he sounded, and how beautiful he looked under the lights, and God, how Lance had missed him all week-

They were mere centimeters apart when Lance whispered.

“Yes.”

Shiro’s lips captured his own, and it wasn’t at all like Lance’s plan.

It was so much better.

Shiro’s lips were soft, and his mouth tasted like wine from dinner. His hands held Lance close to him, like any second the younger man might slip away from him. The kiss started off closed mouthed, until they both started moving in testing, ardent unison. It was hesitant and gentle, but to Lance, it was perfect.

They pulled away with a soft smack of their lips, and Lance sighed, resting his head on Shiro’s shoulder. He chuckled and rubbed the Cuban boy’s back.

“Let’s get back to our room,” Shiro said quietly. “I have four months of kissing to make up for.”

Matt was a very interesting guy, Lance came to find out. After Slav left- and both Shiro and Matt stopped looking like they wanted to commit murder every time he opened his mouth- the brunette livened up quickly. He was more than happy to go everywhere Lance suggested, along with a few friends he’d met up with when they’d flown out.

For the next week, Lance was barely left alone. He’d wake up to a morning make out session with Shiro, which was always one of the best parts of his day, and then he’d be thrust into everything Matt had planned. They went to the beach for two whole days, and Shiro finally got a nice tan. Matt got a sunburn, which he spent hours complaining about. They went to the music festival for two nights straight, which was actually pretty cool. One of Shiro’s favorite bands was playing, which had him drinking and partying like a teenager. It amused Lance while he stood back with Matt, amongst the other booze fueled music freaks.

“He usually doesn’t let go like this,” Matt had told Lance while they waited in line for burgers at a food truck. “Like, this? Greasy food, crowds and way too loud music? Shiro would normally avoid this place like the plague.”

“What happened?” Lance asked, moving up in line a few spaces.

“You did,” Matt said plainly, making Lance go red. “He’s usually a pretty big stick in the mud unless you know him really well. And even then, its hard to break him out of that shell. But ever since you came along… its like he’s actually enjoying life again. I was worried about him for a second, I thought he was having another issue.”

Matt placed his order, all the while, Lance was frowning. When they got their food, Lance spoke up again.

“Another issue?”

“When Shiro came back from the military, he was… pretty fucked up to say the least. I mean, he got his goddamn arm blown off trying to save kids strapped into suicide vests.”

“Oh God,” He breathed. “He didn’t tell me about that.”

“Its one of his worst memories. He was so close to getting this two year old girl out of a combat zone. He thought he'd gotten then whole vest off of her but… she had a small bomb in her diaper. As they were running… you get the picture. His arm goes flying, and he’s got some gnarly scars on his side.”

Lance licked his lips nervously. “Does he have… PTSD?”

“Yeah,” Matt confirmed his suspicions. “For a while, he had bad nightmares every night. He couldn’t work, or even sleep and eat. He stayed with me and my family during that time… he wasn’t right. Then, all of a sudden, he shut down all of those memories and went to college. I never thought he’d gotten better… until you came along. It’s like the Shiro I grew up with is back, you know? He’s happy and joking again. And he actually enjoys being out with people. I should thank you.”

“Oh no,” Lance said with a small smile. “All I’ve done is hung around and spent his money.”

“If that’s what it takes,” Matt laughed. “Lets get back to him.”

Lance didn’t change how he acted around Shiro, but whenever they’d lay down together at night, he’d trace those scars with reverence, thinking about his Shiro would have literally laid down his life for another person. He was so selfless… and Lance could see himself falling in love with him because of it.

They explored San Diego, per Lance’s request. They bought knick knacks that would go promptly in their new house once they got home, and Lance took so many pictures. Of Shiro, of Matt, of the three of them together and in other pairs. He was sure their trip was well documented.

When the week came to an end, no one wanted to go home. They stood in the TSA line, listening to Matt loudly complain.

  
“I wish I could live out here! I hate the cold weather back home, and our nearest beach is in another state that’s covered in trash and people who don’t shower,” He shuddered, making Lance and Shiro laugh.

“You can come back, Matt. Its not like you don’t have the money.” His friend pointed out.

“But the circumstances will never be the same! We’ll never be back here with this combination of people, at the same time of year, doing the same things!” Matt reasoned, making Lance laugh.

“You sound a lot like one of my best friends,” He told him as he put his shoes back on. “They demanded I bring them back as many vials of beach sand I could get on to the plane. They want it for their hermit crab tank.”

“Wait,” Matt caught Lance as he stood to get his suitcase. Which was funny, because Shiro already had them and was going to get them seats in their boarding area. “What does your friend look like?”

“Oh, they’ve got long brown hair, and their signature color is green? They always wear some form of green, whether its on their clothes or in their plugs. They have these really cool, bioluminescent plugs with green jellyfish ones that they wear to raves.”

“Is your friend’s name Pidge?”

“Yeah,” Lance looked confused as they made their way to Shiro. “How do you know Pidge?’

“Dude,” Matt sat down, running a hand through his hair. “Pidge is my sibling.”

“Oh _fuck_.”


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is so late. I’m trying to keep on a schedule but you know, I’m struggling. Two reasons I didn’t update; family life sucks right now, and I’m tired and working now so it’s a big change. But, that doesn’t matter.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! I am unbeta’d and unedited, so if you see an issue, please be kind about pointing it out to me!

“You are the worst friend ever!”

Pidge had nearly attacked Lance when he got back. He and Shiro figured it was smarter to call ahead and warn them about… all of the recent developments before they came to pick Matt up from the airport. On the plane ride back, Lance got the story of how Matt, Shiro and Pidge were all intertwined.

When Shiro was overseas, Matt was a training doctor for the Army. They got along well enough, but it was when Shiro lost his arm that they got close. Matt was the one who performed the surgery to save his kidney, some of his intestines and his arm. He attempted to save his arm, actually, but it couldn’t be done, and Shiro was given the ‘mechanical marvel’ he had attached to him at that moment. And when he was discharged, Matt’s family happily took him in, until he could land back on his feet. It was rough at first. The sights of war never left Shiro, and for months, he woke up with nightmares. Pidge, Matt and their mother consoled him as best they could. Pidge become like a little sibling to Shiro… so Lance felt stupid for not figuring out that the three of them were connected sooner.

Pidge mirrored his sentiments.

“I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out!” They had shouted as the four of them headed to their car from their flight. “I mean, everything made coincidental sense! An older surgeon with a cat and no decoration in his house? A nice black car? Incredibly sexy scars? I should have known it was Shiro when you said all of that!”

“Pidge!” Lance exclaimed, his face red. Shiro looked sheepish, with a little tint of red on his face as well.

“Pidge, look, I’m really sorry-”

“You fucking should be! You! I asked you so many questions! Whenever we’d get together, I was always asking why you were unearthing things to put in your house, and why things that didn’t match your dark ass aesthetic were showing up!” They scoffed. “And you said you had a cute guy telling you how to seem more ‘personable’. You both used the exact same fucking word and it went right over my head!”

They were still shouting as they split to go to their separate cars. Shiro had got them a taxi just so they could avoid the wrath of Pidge. Shiro loaded their bags into the trunk as Lance got inside just so he could block out Pidge’s ranting. His boyfriend got in alongside him and Lance sighed heavily, leaning on him.

  
“I mean, I should have expected this,” Lance reasoned, wrapping his arm through Shiro’s, who gladly took his hand. “But they’re so much angrier than I anticipated.”

“I don’t think they’re angry at you, more at themself for not connecting the dots sooner,” Shiro consoled him, rubbing his hand. “Imagine how they would have felt if they’d come over while you were there.”

“Oh God, they would have exploded,” He laughed as his phone began ringing. He dug it out and groaned when he saw Pidge’s name and picture appear on the screen. “Here we go. Hello?”

“You were going to move in with him without letting us meet him?! Hunk would have scalped him for that!” They were already shouting. Lance could hear Matt apologizing in the background. “Lance! Are you even thinking anymore?! Hiding shit from us when it was this big and would have affected your life in such a major way?!”

“I was actually going to tell you guys about Shiro when we got back!” He defended himself. That was another thing they’d discussed on their flight. “We were going to take you and Hunk out for dinner so you could meet and get to know one another in a public setting.”

“You know you _have_ to do that now, right? Hunk will kill you if you do this without him meeting your boyfriend first!” They took a deep breath and started again, but a lot quieter. “Can Shiro hear me?”

Lance glanced at his boyfriend, who was going through some things on his phone. “No.”

“Lance… are you thinking this through? I mean, I’m all for true love and living while you’re young but… Shiro’s 12 years older than you. He’s already into his career and could be ready to settle down and start having kids within the next year or two, and you can’t legally drink yet. You’re halfway through college, and you’ve barely even started living. Do you think this relationship is really a good idea?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” That was the big reason Lance hadn’t wanted Hunk and Pidge to meet Shiro. He was older than Lance, and not by a small number of years either. But he really liked him. He liked how Shiro made him feel, how he treated him and how he _felt_ when he was around him. His last relationship was more of a… infatuation. Lance hated that he loved Keith. It was always an internal battle. But with Shiro… he wakes up excited that his boyfriend is there, laying next to him. He’s proud to be out in public with him, he’s happy to call Shiro his. But his friends might write him off as a perverted older man and leave it.

“Don’t get me wrong, Shiro’s a great guy. He’s super nice and smart and would be a great husband; for someone who’s ready to be married.” They reasoned.

“Who said I’m not ready?”

“Are you serious?” Their voice was deadpan.

“Yes, I am!” He was a little annoyed now. “Look, you may think I’m some immature kid that is pushing myself into something I don’t want, but I want this. I was in a really bad place in January… and now? I’m happier than I’ve been in years. _Years_ , Pidge! I feel loved, supported, and so happy. Why would you be worried about my happiness? Unless you just don’t want me to be in a relationship again?”

“It isn’t that,” They said with a sigh. “I just want you to know what you’re getting into long term. Do you think you’re ready to be a trophy husband?”

“We aren’t anywhere near talking about that yet,” He was still aware that Shiro was in the car with him and he was _not_ going to let Shiro hear the mention of marriage. While he knew Shiro was probably going to stick around for the long run at this point, but the idea of marriage was enough to send _anyone_ , anyone running. “But I wouldn’t be against it if he told me he wanted that.”

“Wow.”

“I know that you think I’m crazy and in over my-”

“No,” They cut him off gently. “When… after a year over being with Keith, and we asked you if you two were going to get married, you said that maybe when you were 30. And you were so serious… you have that exact same tone right now.”

They arrived at Shiro’s house and Lance let Shiro get out to get their bags before answering.

“If he asked me to marry him within the year… I don’t think I’d hesitate to say yes.”

“Well, people have gotten married over much smaller amounts of time. Remember that wedding visa show?” They pointed out.

“90 Day Fiance?” He shuddered. “Yeah, I remember.”

“That shit was a cringe and a half,” They said, making Lance laugh as he got out of the car.

“I’ll talk to you later, Pidge,” Shiro had gotten their bags on the driveway and he was paying the taxi driver. Lance watched as he gave the driver a big tip, and smiled. He wasn’t doing it as a jerk-off contest, he was doing it just because he was a good person. Lance liked it a lot.

“You’d better invite us to dinner sometimes this _week_ , Lance!”

“Okay, okay, see you.”

He put his phone up as Shiro came back to him. He took his boyfriend’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply, overwhelmed with some emotion right then. Shiro held his hips and gave him a small dazed smile as they pulled apart.

“What was that about? Not that I didn’t like it or anything.”

“We’re moving in together,” He said excitedly. “With your two cats and Hunk is going to meet you and oh my God. Shiro… you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Shiro put his arms around Lance’s waist and kissed his cheek. “Close your eyes.”

Lance laughed and turned to look at Shiro. “What?”

“Just do it for me, baby,” He instructed softly. Lance did as he said and closed his eyes, facing their little townhouse. “Tell me what your dream house looks like. As much detail as possible.”

“Shiro!” Lance laughed more, making his boyfriend kiss at his neck sweetly.

“Come on gorgeous, tell me what your house would be if you could have any house in the world.” He prompted lightly, and Lance sighed gently, thinking hard and squinting his already shut eyes a little.

“Okay… it isn’t huge. Not a sprawling mansion or anything but it isn’t tiny. Probably two stories. The front door is under an archway. And it’s white! White, with a grey roof, and black accents.”

“What does the yard look like?” Shiro was walking Lance forward carefully towards their house.

Lance smiled, but didn’t keep fighting Shiro on it again. “There’s white steps, and a couple of bushes and trees in the front yard, which is super green and pretty. And we have a chimney, made out of grey brick.”

Their front door was opened and Lance was let in, their suitcases echoing on the wooden floors of the townhouse.

“Let your imagination run wild. Tell me everything about this house.”

And so, Lance did. He told Shiro everything he wanted in the house, from the flooring to the walls to even the backyard and basement. He took it all very seriously, from what artwork he’d put on the walls to the throw pillows he’d have in the guest bedroom. It seemed wild to him, to create this perfect house in his mind, but Shiro never stopped him, just held his arms and rubbed them gently as Lance spoke. Eventually, when Lance was done, Shiro whispered in his ear.

“Now open.”

He blinked his eyes open slowly.

‘I’m going to get you the exact house you want.”

They decided to invite Hunk and Pidge out for dinner that Friday. Lance was in their bedroom, applying some makeup as he got ready to go. Shiro was in the bathroom, and the whirr of his electric razor could be heard. Armani lounged on the bed, rolled over onto his back in bliss. Lance applied his last, final coat of mascara and fluttered his eyelashes a few times before standing and heading for the closet.

“Babe! Where’s my white button down?” He called, heading for their shared closet. The whirring of Shiro’s razor stopped for a moment.

“We took it to the dry cleaners on Tuesday, right? So it should still be in the little plastic baggie thing, right?” Shriro shouted back. Lance rifled through their clothes before pulling out his outfit of choice.

“I found it, thank you baby!”

Shiro’s ‘no problem’ was drowned out as he started shaving again.

Lance was a little worried about this dinner. When he asked Hunk to come out with his boyfriend, he looked incredibly apprehensive about it.

“I don’t know Lance,” Hunk had said as they sat in Starbucks on campus. “Pidge wouldn’t stop screaming about being betrayed or something when they dropped their brother off. Plus… Lance, how old is this guy? You just got back from your trip with him, you at least owe me that much information.”

Lance sighed and stirred his coffee with his straw. “He’s 31,” Hunk’s eyebrows raised incredibly far on his forehead, and he quickly tried to defend himself. “But its not like he’s some old perv! Hunk, Shiro is a great guy. One of the best I know; Pidge can prove it to you!”

“Lance, tell me you’re joking. Tell me you are _not_ dating someone 10 years older than you.”

“Hunk, come on. Don’t write him off before you even meet him. Just, have dinner with us. That’s all I’m asking.”

For a long time, Hunk just stared at Lance. The smaller boy adjusted and shifted uncomfortably, just praying that his burly friend wouldn’t give up on him right then and there. Finally, Hunk let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright. Alright! Just dinner. But I swear, if I don’t like anything, I’m taking you, and Pidge, and you’re forgetting all about this guy.”

So yeah. Lance was a little nervous.

He’d gotten dressed and was pacing around their room, double and triple checking their reservations to make sure they wouldn’t make a bad impression on Hunk. He chewed his nails. His heels clicked on their hardwood floors. Armani rolled over and meowed at him, somewhat sensing his stress. He stood and arched his back, coming over and purring loudly at Lance for attention. He sighed and pet the cat’s head gently.

“I know, my stress is making your nap worse.” He said quietly. Shiro entered the room, dressed relatively nice in a white button down and a black tie. When he saw Lance, he clicked his tongue gently at him.

“Baby, you shouldn’t be so worried about this,” He told him softly. Lance sighed.

“I know. I know, I’m just worried because I didn’t think I’d be combining these two parts of my life so soon, and I’m worried that Hunk will pick up on some false thing he doesn’t like about you and I’m scared-”

Shiro took his face in his hands and kissed him. Lance’s hands froze mid air before he wrapped himself and fell into Shiro’s chest. He always felt weightless when he kissed Shiro, and this time was no exception. When he pulled away, Shiro rubbed his thumb over his cheek and smiled gently at him.

“It’s going to be okay,” He repeated. Lance nodded, dazed.

“Mm… okay.”

The restaurant Lance chose wasn’t as upscale as some of the places Shiro had taken him, but it was easily one of his favorites. The place was a more rustic chic, with grey wooden tables and light brown chairs. It was a little dark, but not so dark that you couldn’t see anything. Lance made sure they got there before Hunk and Pidge, just so they could order wine and make sure they got a good table.

Lance was fidgeting with his hands when he finally heard Hunk call out to him.

“Lance,” He looked up and saw his burly friend dressed well, in the same suit he’d worn for Valentines Day that year. Pidge wore a nice, green cocktail dress that they looked pretty good in. Lance grinned and stood, nodding at Pidge, who nodded back, and hugging Hunk. His friend decided to kiss his cheek, which wasn’t abnormal for them, but he wasn’t expecting it. Probably to spite Shiro.

“Thank you guys for coming,” Lance said. Shiro stood and greeted Pidge, who pinched him. Then, he held his right hand out to Hunk, his metal one.

“You must be Hunk Garrett. Takashi Shirogane, but please call me Shiro,” He said in a warm tone. Hunk looked at his hand before taking it slowly and shaking it.

“Nice to meet you.”

Hunk took a seat and Shiro pulled out Lance’s chair for him before sitting down. It was a little awkward. Pidge picked up their menu along with Lance, but Shiro and Hunk seemed to be having intense staredown. Lance and Pidge glanced at each other, and Lance gave them a desperate look. They seemed to get the hint.

“Lance, I’ve never been here, what are you thinking of ordering?”

“So Shiro,” Hunk completely blew over that question as he relaxed back in his chair, attempting to look nonchalant, but acting a lot more like Lance’s dad than he was comfortable with. “What is it you do again?”

“I’m an Army vet, and a neurosurgeon.”

“Army vet?”

“I did three tours in Afghanistan.” Shiro popped their wine open and poured himself and Lance a glass before setting it in a neutral spot between them on the table. Hunk took it and did the same Pidge and himself.

“Is that right?”

“Yep. That’s where I lost my arm.”

“You said you’re a neurosurgeon. That’s a rough career to choose out of the Army.”

“I guess you could say I wanted to give back, since the medical field saved my life overseas.”

“Pidge’s brother, specifically.”

“Po-tay-to, po-ta-to.”

“Lance mentioned you’re a little older than him.”

“I’m 31, yes. Turning 32 next February.”

“You do realize that Lance isn’t 20 yet.”

“I do realize that. And I know he’ll be 20 in two weeks, so we’re 11 years apart.”

The conversation bounced back and forth as if it was scripted, and all Lance and Pidge could do was watch as the two men played audio ping pong across the table. A waiter approached, and for a second, the conversation stopped so they could all order. But before Pidge could even open their mouth to comment on something, it started right back up.

“You know how I’d hate to be that guy,” Hunk started, his glass in his hand, watching Shiro’s arm draped across the back of Lance’s chair with a heated gaze. “But I have to ask what you’re doing dating someone so much younger than you.”

“Can’t I just date Lance because I want to?” The arm moved closer to Lance’s shoulders and he bit back a smile.

“I guess you can, but some people might consider you a pervert,” Hunk spat with a little laugh. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Okay,” Pidge clapped their hands. “We can stop talking about this. Can we stop talking about this? Please?”

“Lighten up, Pidge,” Hunk said, glancing over at her, one of his large hands resting on the table. “I’m just asking. Shiro?”

Lance looked at his boyfriend, whose jaw was set. Great, this was exactly what he _didn’t_ want. He sighed and rested his hand on Shiro’s knee, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“We can just go. It’s alright.”

“No baby,” Shiro said out loud, to Lance’s surprise. He leaned back and Shiro was smiling. “Hunk, I know what you think of me. Or what you probably think of me, that I’m disgusting and taking advantage of Lance because I know more than him. Or that I’m a pervert for being attracted to Lance. However, I’m not attracted to him because of our age gap. I’m attracted to him,” He looked at Lance with a smile that he could only describe as being full of love. It made him go red in the face. “Because we’ve built our relationship organically.”

Hunk was starting to look swayed, but only to the trained eyes of his best friends. “Care to explain?”

“The first night I met Lance, back in February, he came home with me. We didn’t sleep together. Instead, we watched a mutual interest TV show until he passed out. There was no sexual undertones, nothing that told the either of us that we owed the other person sex. Right?” He looked at Lance, who nodded frantically. “And from there, we became friends. We had meals and went to the gym together. I helped him with his homework. He decided to redecorate my house.” That made Pidge snort. “I cooked dinners for him and he’d made breakfast for me. We were more platonic roommates and friends before anything developed. But once things did… I knew I’d already fallen for him.”

  
Lance was touched. Shiro cupped his cheek and rubbed at a mole under his eye.

“I know it is a little weird. But people can call me whatever they want, as long as I can keep Lance by my side. For as long as he’ll want me. As long as he’ll keep me.”

Lance kissed him. He kissed Shiro softly, whispering thank you against his lips as he pulled back and looked at Hunk. While his friend could put on a scary persona when he felt threatened or felt his friends threatened, even he couldn’t keep it up after a speech like that. He was smiling gently, and looked relaxed. Genuinely related at this point. He sighed and set his wine down as their food arrived.

They all began eating. The atmosphere was less tense now. Pidge and Lance spoke to one another about the new house he and Shiro were looking at, and what he was looking for. Eventually, Hunk cleared his throat and got everyone’s attention.

“You cook too?” He asked carefully, like Shiro might explode at him. However, Shiro smiled and nodded.

“I try my best. Lance tells me you’re quite the chef. I’d love to try something sometime,” He said, making Hunk smile and rub the back of his neck in a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Thanks, maybe sometime you could come over and we could cook for you.”

Shiro grinned. “I’d like that.”

Lance looked knowingly at Pidge, who had a smug look on their face as well. So. Things had worked out after all. Looks like Lance had been worried for nothing. Aside from the fact that Hunk had put Shiro through the ringer at first.

Later that night, while they were cuddled up in bed together, Shiro broached the topic of dinner.

“You have good friends,” Lance hummed softly in confusion. “I wouldn’t have trusted Hunk if he didn’t grill me a little. I’d think he didn’t care about you if he didn’t.”

Lance smiled and curled further down into Shiro’s chest. “I was worried you’d run after he treated you like that. Like you were going through an interrogation or something.”

“No, I’ve been through so much worse, baby,” Shiro promised him, rubbing his side. Lance grinned. “Have any of those houses looked good to you?”

“No,” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you want to move out by the end of summer but I’m just not liking anything-”

“Don’t apologize,” Shiro kissed his forehead. “You’ll find something you like. I know you will. You’ll find a house that’s perfect for you, and me, and Armani and Emilia, and whoever else may come along. And it will have everything you’ve been wanting.”

Lance hoped so, because he could not wait to start this new part of his life with Shiro. He was going into his junior year of college with a steady boyfriend that his friends both know about and like. And Shiro was so good for him. He honestly couldn’t have hand crafted a better man. Things were… incredible. And Lance was so excited to see what the future held.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright alright alright-
> 
> I did it. I wrote chapter seven. I have no idea why it took me so long to write this one chapter, but there was just this roadblock halfway through that made me just stare at it for a couple of days. That being said, I'm not very proud of this chapter? Like, I know I accomplished what I needed to to move the story forward in this chapter but like, you every create something and stare at it for so long that you start to hate it? Yeah. That happened here.
> 
> This chapter should be my last awkward story setting up one, and from here on in, the drama should start to unfold. PLEASE stay aware of the tags as we go on, I've tagged both Klance and Shance so you're aware of the love triangle starting forward! Thank you for sticking with this fic, and with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter and please keep commenting, reading and leaving kudos! Thank you!

Contrary to what he wanted, Lance couldn’t find a house with everything he wanted. And you can call him spoiled, but ever since he got with Shiro, he wasn’t going to settle for something he didn’t find absolutely perfect.

They sat in the kitchen of a red farmhouse about thirty minutes outside of the city, Lance looking sheepish, but upset. They had been through  _ six _ houses in that week, one a day. Sunday was a grey two story cottage, Monday was a mansion like tan and cobblestone home, Tuesday was an upscale yellow ranch house, Wednesday was a white Spanish style house, excetera, excetera; and Lance wasn’t happy with any of them. They all had their problems. The cottage was too small, the mansion too big, the ranch house was too cheap looking, and Spanish style was too expensive; and Shiro went along happily with all of Lance’s decisions. So, their realtor was trying desperately to sell them the farm house when they arrived.

Shiro had opened Lance’s car door for him and helped him out onto the land of the farmhouse. It was pretty. Red siding with white accents and a light wood door that looked handcrafted. It sat back off the road, next to a grove of trees that went on for miles. The chimney was a multitude of greys, and the grass was lush and green, and a paved drive led up to a wide garage. It looked promising.

“Shiro, Lance, this farmhouse is beautiful isn’t it? Please, come in!” Their realtor called from the white front porch. Shiro led him up the stairs, a hand on the small of his back. The front door was opened and they stepped inside.

Of all the houses, this one had the most things Lance wanted. It was bigger, 3000 square feet. The floors were hardwood and the walls were smooth, not with any stupid plaster or drywall. There was a guest bedroom and a master bedroom with an attached bath. It was cute.

They sat in the kitchen as their realtor took a call, Shiro holding Lance’s hands in his own.

“So, what do you think of this one?” Shiro asked, giving Lance a smile that looked like he was getting kind of tired of this. It made Lance wince a little considering what he was about to tell his boyfriend.

“I like it,” He wanted to start with the positive. “It's really pretty and it looks really nice on both the inside and outside.”

“But?”

Lance sighed heavily. “I don’t like the area. And I don’t like that it has a cellar instead of a finished basement. I mean, I want a basement just so we can have a second living area if we need or want it. And being so close to the woods and us only having one car freaks me out. Our nearest neighbors are almost a mile away.” Shiro nodded solemnly, and Lance tried backpedaling. “It's really nice though! It's probably our best option at this point and if there are no other houses we can look at then this one would be perfect-!”

“Lance,” Shiro said sweetly. “Its okay. You don’t like this house and that’s okay. We can find another. We have one more to check out tomorrow, but if you don’t like that one we might have to go outside of city limits.”

Lance felt greedy on the ride home. He felt like he was asking Shiro for too many things he wasn’t going to find in one consecutive house. If Shiro had shown even a remote sign of wanting one of the houses they’d already looked at then Lance would have agreed to it in a heartbeat. But his boyfriend was just being supportive of anything Lance wanted without giving his own opinions on them. He squeezed Shiro’s hand involuntarily. He wondered what Shiro wanted in a house. Was one of their options something he would have liked?

He couldn’t see Shiro in a little house, or a huge one. Maybe a nice little two story house. With a master bedroom and a guest. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. Something sensible, and professional looking for an attractive, sensible man. And then there was Lance. He wanted two stories, three bedrooms with attached bathrooms, a finished basement and a nice walkway up to their front door. He wanted nice, not plaster walls and hardwood floors. A carpeted basement. And maybe a pool in the back. In ground.

Lance was being a diva.

“Baby,” Shiro caught Lance’s attention. He hadn’t even realized they were home. “You’re stressing yourself out.”

“I’m not-”

“Your forehead is crinkling and you do that when you’re upset,” Shiro pointed out, and Lance automatically let his face relax.”You’re overthinking this. I want you to get everything you want in a house. No exceptions.”

“But-”

“I know you think you’re being picky. You have a right to be. Once we decide on a house, we’re moving into it together. And we’ll hopefully be there for a long time,” Lance’s stomach exploded with butterflies and Shiro cupped his cheek. “You want things to be…”

“Perfect,” Lance finished with a little sigh. “I’m sorry I’m being so over dramatic about this. I don’t want to mess anything up. I want you and I to have the house of our dreams.”

“And we will. I have a good feeling about tomorrow’s option,” He kissed Lance’s hands. “Come on, let’s go give Emilia her medicine so she can eat.”

The next morning, Shiro was extremely ready to get going. He ushered Lance into the car before he could eat, saying they could stop and get food on the way out. However, once they hit the highway, Shiro handed Lance a thin piece of black cloth. 

Around the egg and bacon muffin he’d gotten, he asked, “What’s this?”

“For you. Tie it around your eyes.” Shiro explained, and Lance swallowed some of his food hard.

“What?”

“This house is a surprise. Do it for me, please?” He asked and Lance sighed, going to tie the blindfold on.

“You’d better not be taking me back to that creepy cellar,” He muttered, making Shiro laugh. It was kind of hard to eat and drink with a blindfold on, and Lance may have grabbed Shiro’s orange juice more times than his own iced coffee, but he eventually finished his breakfast. Then, they drove for a while, Shiro’s hand in Lance’s to keep him sane. All he could see was a distorted, not clear, gauzy view of the world through the black fabric. Eventually, Shiro took an exit and drove for a few more minutes before stopping the car.

“Stay here,” Shiro said, before the car door opened. There was some silence and Lance’s door opened, and he was helped out onto a sidewalk. “Alright baby, are you ready to see your dream house?”

“Definitely,” He was excited, and nervous. Shiro held Lance’s forearms in his hands, standing behind him. “Show me this magical house that’s going to exceed all of my expectations.”

“Okay, three, two, one,” Shiro untied the fabric and removed it from Lance’s eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the area. The houses looked upscale but not too expensive, in nice muted colors, shades of yellow, white or grey. The street was long and looked newly paved. To their right were finished houses, with kids playing on lawns and riding bikes. To their left looked to be new construction being put in.

And in front of them was empty land.

“Shiro?” Lance was worried his boyfriend had lost his mind. “Is this where you meant to bring me?” There was a house across the street for sale; it was tall and blue, and had a two car garage. It looked relatively like what Lance wanted, so he assumed Shiro just had them turned in the wrong direction.

But his boyfriend didn’t move.

“Yeah. This neighborhood is very common for new construction,” He explained. “ _ Personal  _ construction.”

It was then that Lance noticed that these houses didn’t look cookie cutter. They didn’t look like copy-paste corporate pre-approved houses. Each looked different with their own marks, or proof that they were each individual and built by their owners. Lance’s eyes widened and he placed a hand over his mouth.

“Sh-Shiro… are you telling me…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“If I give you a budget of  $450,000,” Lance choked just hearing the number. “Do you think you could build your dream house here?”

He stared at this lot, deep within his brain. He could build and decorate a house with that much money. He could build three houses with that amount of money. And Shiro… Shiro was going to live with him there. In their house. That they would spend the rest of  _ their  _ lives together in that house. He could see them settling down in that house. Lance would do photography for weddings, blogs, and magazines. Shiro would keep being a doctor, and Lance would be waiting at home for him whenever his beautiful boyfriend came home with tired legs, just needing some love. He could see Shiro being cheesy and carrying Lance across the threshold of their home after their wedding. He could see them adopting kids, three kids, two girls and a boy, and them growing up in this house, on this street.

“Yes,” Lance whispered. “This is perfect. This is the one.” He turned and faced Shiro, kissing him deeply and whispering against his lips. “Let’s buy it.”

The rest of Lance’s summer was spent designing his house. Whenever Lance wasn’t seeing his friends, preparing for the new school year, or laying in bed and kissing Shiro, he was designing that house. Pidge was excited. The two of them spent hours in their living room, looking over floor plans and blueprints for different house types.

“How about this one,” Pidge had called, making Lance look up from his computer at his friend. “It’s a three story French Colonial with a two car garage.”

“How many bedrooms?” Lance asked before glancing back at the option he’d pulled up.

“Four.”

“That’s a bit much,” He muttered, making Pidge huff.

“I don’t think you’re going to find a house with everything you want,” They informed him, cracking open a can of Coke.

“I will if I can help it.”

He eventually decided on a 2 story European Style home. It was chic and beautiful, and would fit right into their neighborhood. While the construction crew they’d hired got to work in mid-July, Lance took Hunk out on a shopping spree for flooring, doors, windows, shutters and exterior paints. Shiro was at work on the day they went, and he needed his best friend’s truck.

“I can’t believe he’s letting you build a house,” Hunk sighed as Lance flicked through an endless array of flooring panels. “You look like a kid in a candy store. A very  _ feminine  _ kid.”

Lance knew Hunk was trying to pry at why he was dressed in incredibly short shorts, but he couldn’t be bothered. Shiro had bought them for him, he looked good in them, and he felt comfortable. He felt a lot more comfortable in women’s clothing, but that was a conversation for another time.

“I feel like a kid in a candy store! Hunk, do you understand how big of a  _ dream  _ its been to design my own house?” He shouted, finally deciding on a flooring.

“Considering how quickly you picked out the exterior paint colors, yes.”

“You just don’t get it. Shiro is literally building a house for me. I’m so fucking in love with that man.”

The words fell from his lips and he gasped, covering his mouth. Hunk was as silent as Lance was. Did he actually just say he was in love with Shiro? Was he in love with Shiro? He really cared about him, and he loved that Shiro would build him a house and do everything for him but… did he l…

“Lance,” Hunk said softly as he set the flooring sample in their cart.

“Nope,” Lance cut him off as they headed for the front of the store. “We aren’t talking about it.”

“Bud, you just admitted-”

“No, we aren’t talking about it!” He cut his friend off again. He wasn’t going to talk about it and he  _ especially  _ wasn’t going to talk about it with Hunk.

After that day, Lance thought about their conversation a lot. Did he love Shiro? He weighed his yes and no options. On his no side; they’d only known one another for a few months. Shiro was older than Lance. His mom hadn’t met him. On his yes side; he lived with Shiro. Shiro was his boyfriend who helped him heal after an intense breakup and simultaneously made Lance fall in love with him. He was an amazing friend before he was a good boyfriend, and then he was a fantastic boyfriend. They were moving in together. Shiro supported him. He supported him during his photo projects, he supported him with how he dressed and how he wanted to be seen by others.

Which brought him to how he had started dressing.

With Shiro’s money, Lance was able to buy clothes and make up he hadn’t when he lived with Hunk. He hid them from his boyfriend though, and only brought out his more… feminine looking items when he was alone. His plan was to carefully introduce Shiro to these things and the second his boyfriend found him weird, he’d back off.

So of course the universe decided to fuck with him.

He had been testing out some of his things- some makeup, a cute pair of floral shorts and a white t-shirt, not too feminine but not masculine at all either -one night when Shiro was supposed to be performing a surgery until late into the night. He was in their bathroom, applying a soft shade of pink to his lips just to make sure it complimented his skin. Music blared from his phone, so he had no way of knowing that Shiro was back in the house early.

“You look pretty.”

Lance gasped and dropped his lipstick, whirling to face Shiro. His boyfriend had a small smile on his face, and Lance’s heart seized.

“What are you doing back?” He whispered. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“What’s all this about? When did you buy this stuff?” Shiro asked, coming into the bathroom and picking up Lance’s lipstick, putting the cap back on and setting it up. Lance felt disgust crawling through his skin at himself, at letting Shiro see him like this. “Are you a cross dresser?”

Lance flinched. “N-No,” He whispered, tears starting to form in his eyes. “I don’t think so. I, I’m just, I’m a little… I like dressing feminine sometimes… I feel comfortable in the clothes, like in male clothes but I just, I never do it b-because-”

“You don’t want to be judged.”

Lance dropped his head, tears falling from his painted eyes and hitting the tile floor. “It's disgusting, I know, I’m a freak and a p-pervert and-”

“Baby,” Shiro breathed, taking Lance’s hands. “Why would you ever think those things about yourself?”

Lance looked up, sniffing. “It isn’t normal, Shiro. Doing this, d-dressing the way I do…”

“You are allowed to dress however you want,” Shiro wiped under Lance’s eyes and kissed him softly. “You should never feel uncomfortable to express yourself around me. Whether you want to dress like a male or a female, I will not judge you. You said you aren’t a cross dresser… do you think you're like Pidge?”

Lance hadn’t thought about it too much, but that didn’t sound exactly right. “No… I don’t think so. I’m happy being a guy, and I like using male pronouns I guess I just… like the clothes? I feel feminine sometimes.”

Shiro nodded and kissed him again. “Okay. You’re allowed to feel that way, and I'm going to support you no matter what. You’re my boyfriend. That’s what I’m here for.”

It was that conversation that brought Lance to where he was today.

It was the first day of Lance’s junior year of college. Shiro had agreed to drive him to his first class before work. He wore a coral colored skirt and a plain top, and wedge heels. He looked good. He knew he looked good but still… he hesitated in getting out of the car.

“What if I get weird looks?” He asked his boyfriend, gripping his hand over their coffee cups. “What if something happens? Shiro, what the hell am I supposed to do when I need to use the restroom?!”

“You’re stressing over nothing,” His boyfriend told him, kissing the mole on his cheek. “You look incredible. And I know you feel incredible in that outfit. You strutted out of the house this morning like a trained model… you just do the same here, and crowds will part. You’ve got this.”

And there was another reason Lance considered being in love with Shiro. He took his face in his hands and kissed him for a long while before pulling back and grabbing his backpack.

“I’ll see you after class. Lunch today, right?”

“You know it,” Shiro said, handing him his coffee. “Have a good day, baby.”

“You too, darling.”

Lance stepped out of the car.

The quad wasn’t incredibly busy, but people milled about in groups, talking or catching up on what happened over the summer. Lance pulled his sunglasses down over his face and began walking, trying to look casual as his skirt swished against his legs. Hunk and Pidge were waiting for him, since they all had a class in the same building that day. Lance faltered only slightly when he saw a mop of black hair and those weird combat boots standing with his friends, but he held his chin up and kept walking until he reached them.

Pidge spoke first.

“Oh my  _ God _ , look at you! Sexy, sexy!” They shouted, making Hunk look him over.

“Very nice, Lance.”

Keith finally turned and saw Lance, and the blue eyed boy tried not to stand up straighter when he gulped and looked Lance up and down  _ multiple  _ times.

“Thanks guys,” Lance laughed, looking at Keith with a friendly smile. “Hey Keith.”

“H-hey Lance,” He stammered, his face softly pink. “Y-You look… I mean, you, wow.”

“Keith has engineering with me,” Hunk explained, standing up and stretching. “So I figured he could walk with us over there.”

“Totally,” Lance agreed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Let’s get going.”

Pidge happily fawned over Lance’s outfit as they walked, making him blush and laugh a little, feeling a lot more confident after seeing his friends. Men whistled and called out to Lance as he walked, making his eyes roll. It was annoying, he had Shiro, and all other men were incredibly undesirable to him now.

“Hey,” Keith caught Lance’s arm as they reached their building and all headed to split off. “Do you want to catch up a little? My class doesn’t start for another 30 minutes.”

Lance glanced at the clock on the wall, and nodded. “Yeah, sure, I have time.”

They sat down on a sofa nearby, and for a minute, Keith just stared at Lance, who was watching people go by, talking in pairs or listening to music as they got started on the new year of college. Eventually, Keith sighed.

“I saw your Instagram over the summer. You looked like you had a lot of fun.” He sounded slightly interested, slightly jealous. Lance smiled, thinking about the things he posted all summer. Pictures he took in California, ones of their house progress, of him with Pidge and Hunk at dinner, and so, so many of Shiro. Shiro in bed, Shiro cooking, Shiro driving, Shiro kissing him’ as many pictures of his boyfriend as possible because it was his boyfriend and he wanted everyone to know.

“I did. I went to California with my boyfriend and we started building our house together, it was incredible, really.”

“Yeah? That’s good,” Keith sighed.

“How was your summer?” Lance asked.

“Alright. Got a lot of experience with flying.” Keith said vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. “Went to a concert or two.”

“Oh, did you go with Thace?”

“No. We aren’t… talking anymore,” Keith said quickly. “I told him I missed you.”

Lance took in breath sharply and sighed. “I’ve missed you too.”

“I really missed you over the summer. It had been a long time since we hadn’t been together over the summer,” He said quietly. “It was… kind of boring.”

“Yeah,” He whispered. “But that really isn’t my fault.”

Keith looked deeply into Lance’s eyes. “I know. I dumped you and… honestly, I was a major asshole about it. I really screwed you up and you, you’re dating someone a lot older than you for your rebound.”

“Shiro isn’t a rebound,” Lance was quick to defend his boyfriend. “He’s my boyfriend. We’ve been together for seven months now. Rebounds don’t last that long.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Alright.”

“Did you actually want something, or did you want to criticize my relationship?”

“I want to be friends,” Keith said honestly. “I don’t like this silence between us. I want to hang out with you and Pidge and Hunk all together again. I want us to be friends again. I miss being close with you.”

Lance bit the inside of his lip. Being friends with Keith wouldn’t be terrible, right? Would bringing him back into his life be awful? He wished he could talk to Shiro about it. He wanted to ask his boyfriend’s opinion, but not so much permission. He and Keith could be civil and be friends again without any ulterior motive. Keith seemed to have automatically moved on after their relationship, and now, Lance had moved on as well. He was in the best relationship of his life with a man who he was about 85% sure he loved (he’d need to think more about it). There wasn’t any reason to  _ not  _ be friends with Keith. He would talk to Shiro about it that night, but he couldn’t find any issue. Besides, Keith was moved on and happy, and only checked Lance out because his legs looked good in his skirt.

“Alright,” He finally sighed. “We can be friends again.”

Keith cracked a rare smile, and Lance returned it. “Cool.”

“Cool.”


End file.
